


a week, a month, an eternity

by charlesdk



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Canon Disabled Character, Childhood Friends, Dogs, Friends to Lovers, Gay Bucky Barnes, Grief/Mourning, Hiking, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Photographer Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sexual Content, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, mentions of past character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 11:03:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18009740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesdk/pseuds/charlesdk
Summary: “Do you believe in destiny?” Bucky asks then. “Soulmates, that kind of stuff?”“I don't know,” Steve says with a half shrug. “Maybe. Why?”Bucky turns his head to meet his eye and says, “I think we were destined to meet again.”OR in which Steve flies to Italy to hike through the mountains in a desperate need to get away after the death of his mother. He expects it to be hard, both physically and mentally, and it is. But what he doesn't expect is to run into his childhood best friend at the airport.





	a week, a month, an eternity

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Posting a fic? It's more likely than you think.
> 
> Firstly, a huge thank you to the mods of the [Stucky AU Big Bang](https://stuckyaubang.tumblr.com/) for making my first bb experience such an enjoyable time. Secondly, thank you to my artists [Kai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerily_kai) and [Iris](https://iris-of-your-eye.tumblr.com/) for their incredible work. Both were great to work with and I'm so in love with the art they made for this story. Thirdly and lastly, as always a thank you to my rock and my beta [Elisa](http://atticuos.tumblr.com/).

  
[Fic banner, by [Kai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerily_kai)]

The first time Steve sets foot in an airport, all he has is his passport and a ticket in hand. He hasn't packed much for this trip, only the essentials which are all stuffed into a backpack that has already been put through to the plane. On him, he has a small backpack slung over his shoulders and his camera hanging around his neck.

Even though it's barely five in the morning, the airport is still busy and bustling with life. People are scattered around the terminal, some asleep and some struggling to stay awake and some looking too awake for five am. Steve is somewhere in the middle; tired but too wired with nerves to even think about sleep. He has never flown or been on an airplane before and it terrifies him.

The terminal is crowded but to his luck, he finds a corner with a row of empty seats and decides to claim that area as his before anyone else can. He sits down, slides his backpack off his shoulders to put it on the floor between his spread legs instead, and stuffs his ticket and passport into the pocket of his jacket. Then, he gathers his hands in front of him, elbows resting on his knees, and lets out a breath.

His plane doesn't board for a while because he listened to Natasha's advice and came in good time, so he has some time to kill. There's a book packed in his backpack but he's saving it for the flight itself and his phone is turned off and tucked away in the front pocket.

There isn't much else to do but fidget.

Which he does.

He does it without realizing and then suddenly his thumbs won't stop moving.

It isn't the height that Steve is terrified of, he's actually okay with that. When he was a kid, he used to climb up onto the roof of the building he grew up in and sit there with his best friend at the time, feet dangling over the edge and heads tilted back to look at the sky.

It's not the height that's making him nervous. It's the fact that he'll be stuck in one place for _hours_.

He doesn't do well with being glued to one place for too long and the strangers that will be seated around him for the duration of the flight don't help much either. People don't make him as anxious as they used to nor do they necessarily make him all that nervous but nine hours is a long time to be around people you don't know.

Thoughts of canceling this trip and going back home have crossed his mind up to several times by now so when it happens once more as he eyes the tired parents with three noisy kids on the other side of the terminal, it doesn't surprise him.

He could go home. He could. But then he imagines it and suddenly all he wants is to be on that plane and get out of here.

Steve has never been one to run away from his problems. He prides himself in the fact that he faces his problems head-on, even when those problems are tough. But this time, well.

This time is different. It's harder.

Steve sighs quietly and looks away from the family. He looks down at his hands instead, down at where his thumbs haven't stopped rubbing against the rough skin of his hands. The watch wrapped around his wrist tells him that there's still thirty minutes 'til boarding and that makes him sigh again.

He considers taking a brief ten minute nap but before he can make a decision, a voice speaks.

“Is that seat taken?”

Steve lifts his head up and looks at the man standing in front of him.

He's tall, possibly around Steve's own height give or take a few inches. He's muscular too, easily bulks out underneath the layers of clothing he's wearing; a red hoodie with a worn-out print on the chest and a dark blue jacket over it.

His hair is obviously long but it's been gathered into a bun that sits loosely on the nape of his neck, a couple loose locks hanging down by the sides of his face. There's a rough and unkempt stubble along his jaw, framing a pair of pink lips that are pulled into a crooked smile, a cleft in his chin.

It's the eyes that make Steve pause though.

They're a startling bright shade of blue, maybe even a bit gray. They're beautiful and oddly familiar.

But Steve can't place from where.

“Uh,” he says intelligently. “No.”

The man raises a brow, his smile widening as he asks, “Mind if I take it?”

“Not at all,” Steve says with a shake of his head. “It's all yours.”

“Thanks,” the man says and sits down.

He has a backpack slung over his right shoulder but he slides it off as he sits down and settles it between his knees in a similar position to Steve. The backpack is filled to the brim, a bit dirty, and looks regularly used. There's a patch sewn onto the front but the guy's boot blocks Steve's view of it.

“Sorry for interrupting your quiet,” the man says. “It's just— You're sitting over here, by yourself, and I figured that would be a lot more pleasant than, uh, than the rest.”

Steve smiles. “The noisy families, you mean?” he asks.

The man huffs and nods. “Yeah,” he says. “The noisy families, exactly.”

“I get that,” Steve says with a one-shouldered shrug.

The man turns more toward him, then holds out his hand. “I'm James,” he says.

“Steve,” Steve says and slides his hand into James'.

He squeezes once in a firm shake, then moves to pull his hand back. But his hand doesn't go very far because James immediately tightens his grip around it and keeps it from leaving his own.

Steve blinks, the smile slipping from his lips while his brows furrow in confusion.

James is staring at him, head tilted ever so slightly. He doesn't stare for long but it's long enough that Steve starts to feel uncomfortable and even considers using force to get his hand back. James may look strong but Steve hasn't been hitting the gym on the regular for nothing.

Before he can do more than consider though, James' eyes widen and he smiles brightly.

“Rogers?” he asks.

Steve pauses and stares. It takes him a minute too long but when it hits him, it hits him hard and he takes a second to wonder how the hell he didn't recognize this man the second he laid eyes on him. After all, he knows him better than he's ever known anyone.

“Bucky?”

James— _Bucky_ , because though he may go as James these days, he will always be Bucky to Steve.

Bucky smiles at him, wide enough that crowfeet appear by the corners of his eyes. When Steve last saw him, Bucky had been smooth faced, bare and no crinkles or wrinkles or age marks in sight. The crowfeet are a hard hitting reminder of the time that's passed but it's still Bucky.

It's still Bucky and he's smiling at him like he did when they were twelve.

“Steve fuckin' Rogers,” Bucky says. “Look at you, all grown up.”

His voice is deeper but he still says his name the same way he used to; with a hint of Brooklyn drawl seeping into every word. It's more faded now, of course, but it's still there.

“Had to happen sometime,” Steve says with a chuckle.

Bucky echoes his chuckle and his smile widens to show off a row of white teeth. They look at each other for a mere moment but then Steve can't wait any longer; he shoves his backpack out of the way and moves to stand up, smiling when Bucky hurries to do the same.

“Shit, Rogers,” Bucky says when they're both up. “You're taller than me now.”

Steve laughs and shifts his camera to the side before he pulls him in for a hug, one that is returned immediately.

Steve has been hugged a lot these past few weeks but this is different. Bucky doesn't hug him to comfort him, doesn't hug him with the same kind of heartbreak and sympathy that everyone else has lately. He hugs him like he's missed him as much as Steve has, hugs him so tightly that Steve struggles to breathe for a second and loves every millisecond of it.

If Steve was paying attention, he might have noticed that Bucky only has one arm wrapped around him but he isn't so he doesn't. He is too busy closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of his childhood best friend to notice anything off about it.

The hug lasts for a minute before Steve lets it end and loosens his grip on Bucky. Neither of them go very far, only far enough to put some distance between them. Steve keeps his hands on Bucky and Bucky keeps his on him too, squeezing.

“You look good,” Bucky says with a smile. “I like the beard.”

Steve lifts one hand off Bucky and touches his beard subconsciously. It's rough these days because he hasn't bothered to care for it.

“Thanks,” he says, then gestures to Bucky. “I like the hair.”

Bucky makes a face, nose wrinkling. “Do you really, though?” he asks.

“Yes,” Steve says. “I think it suits you. The scruff, however...”

Bucky rolls his eyes with a scoff but his lips curl into a smile.

“You know you can care for facial hair, right?”

“Shut up.” Bucky laughs and shoves at him.

Steve lets himself be pushed, a laugh escaping him in response to Bucky's.

The two sit back down in their seats once the laughter has subsided and become smiles on both of their faces. Steve turns bodily toward him once he's sitting, making himself comfortable and letting himself just look at Bucky for a moment.

“Sixteen years,” he says. “Can't believe it's been that long.”

“Me neither,” Bucky says. “Also can't believe we met again in an airport, of all places.”

Steve chuckles and echoes, “Me neither.”

“So, where 're you off to?”

“Venice,” Steve says.

“Seriously?” Bucky smiles. “That's where I'm headed too.”

“You gotta be shitting me,” Steve says with a laugh. “What are the odds?”

Bucky shrugs, then asks, “What are you doing in Venice?”

“I'm, uh. I'm actually not staying there.”

“No?”

“No, I'm going hiking.”

“Don't tell me,” Bucky says. “The Dolomites?”

Steve blinks at him. “Yeah, how'd you know?”

“Well,” Bucky says. “Because that's where I'm going too.”

“Wow,” Steve says and huffs with a smile on his lips. “Must be destiny.”

“Must be,” Bucky says and smiles. “You traveling alone?”

Steve takes in a breath and nods. “Yeah,” he says. “You?”

“Nah, I'm with my best friend,” Bucky says, “but she's already boarding.”

Steve feels his stomach drop and not because Bucky has a best friend who isn't him. It's been sixteen years, that's to be expected. Hell, Steve himself has a best friend who isn't Bucky. But his stomach drops because, well.

“They're boarding already?” he asks, panicked and moving to get up.

He doesn't get much more than an inch off his seat before Bucky pushes him back down with a hand on his shoulder.

“My best friend's a dog, Steve,” Bucky says. “She's being shipped over. Relax.”

Steve blinks. “Oh,” he lets out in a breath and sinks back into his seat. “That's— Is that safe?”

“Perfectly safe,” Bucky says and smiles. “We've done it a few times before.”

Steve nods. He falls silent for a moment, then he looks at Bucky. “Tell me about her.”

“Her name's Lyn,” Bucky says and shifts to pull his phone out. “Well, Evelyn but I call her Lyn.”

  
[Bucky showing Steve a picture of Lyn, by [Iris](https://amazoning-iris.tumblr.com/)]

Steve smiles and leans over to look at the phone when Bucky tilts it in his direction. On the screen is a picture of a dog; a boarder collie with a black and white coat and her tongue lolling out of her open mouth. She looks happy, standing on a fallen tree stump in the woods with her ears perked.

“She's beautiful,” Steve tells him with a smile.

When he looks at him, Bucky has a smile on his lips that softens his whole face. It makes Steve's heart do a flip, even after all these years.

“Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Yeah, she's pretty great. Endless energy which can make her a handful to manage but long hiking trips are good for that.”

“I bet she loves that.”

“Oh, pal, you have no idea how much.”

Steve chuckles quietly, then he shifts and leans back into his seat. His eyes wander, after. A glance around the terminal ends up being a lot longer than he wanted it to and then he can't stop looking, his nerves and anxieties returning as his heart starts pounding once again.

“First time flying?”

Bucky's voice speaking gently to his left makes him look back at him, though it doesn't make his heart calm down despite his best efforts not to let his nerves get to him. He doesn't want to admit or even acknowledge that just being here, in the airport, is making him as nervous as it is.

It's just flying. People do it every day and have for years.

Steve exhales and smiles, albeit forced. “How could you tell?” he asks.

Bucky smiles at him, small and kind. “You've been fidgeting for a while now,” he says.

As if on cue, Steve stills and stops moving altogether. He hadn't realized he'd been fidgeting again, fingers playing with a strap on his backpack and knee bouncing ever so slightly. He forces himself to stop and laughs about it instead.

“First time jitters,” he says with a half shrug.

Bucky looks at him in silence, the smile never leaving his lips. He looks for a second too long and the looking becomes staring which makes Steve shift awkwardly in his seat, suddenly feeling observed which isn't helping his nerves.

“So, the camera,” Bucky says, not long after. “Tell me 'bout that. You a photographer these days?”

“Are you trying to distract me?” Steve asks.

“Are you gonna let me or would you rather be a wreck by the time we board?”

Steve is quiet for a moment, then he lets out a breath and looks down at his camera.

“I'm not a photographer,” he says. “Well, not really. I've sold some pictures to a few nature magazines but I wouldn't call myself a photographer.”

“What would you call yourself, then?”

“I don't know. A try-hard?”

Bucky snorts and shakes his head. “Tell me more about this try-hard life of yours,” he says.

Steve rolls his eyes but does anyway, welcoming the distraction.

They talk until their flight starts boarding and Steve forgets to be nervous.

• • •

Until he's actually sitting in the plane.

Bucky isn't seated next to him or even near him. He's seated further back in the plane and when they parted ways after Steve had found his seat, Bucky had patted his shoulder and whispered _you'll be alright_ in his ear. Steve wants to believe him but it's hard to calm down when the plane is so loud.

There's a woman seated next to him, instead. She is a couple years younger than him, maybe, and her natural hair is gathered into two buns that sit neatly on either side of her head. She smiles at him when she sits down and Steve smiles back, praying that he at least doesn't look nervous.

He doesn't succeed.

“Nervous?” she asks while the other passengers get seated.

Steve lets out a breath. “That obvious?” he asks rhetorically.

“Pretty obvious,” she says with a smile. “Don't worry. It's a nine hour flight, you'll get used to it.”

Steve doesn't argue or say _or it'll be nine hours of hell_ even though the words are right on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he offers her a smile and lets the conversation die out.

She's right though, as it turns out.

The first hour is excruciating but after that, Steve starts to calm down bit by bit. The music in his headphones helps, as does the book that he manages to focus on after an hour of breathing and breathing and trying to ignore the loud engines and the confined space he's in.

It's not so bad, after that. He even manages to sleep through a couple hours, though he wakes up with a sore neck, and he snaps a couple pictures through the window next to him.

It isn't so bad but he still feels relieved when they land.

• • •

Steve doesn't see Bucky at baggage claim, not that he expects to. He looks for him anyway but his one bag is among the first to come rolling out onto the track so he doesn't stay long. He grabs it and lets himself look at the people around him, searching for a familiar face, for another minute but he sees none so he decides to leave.

He takes the bus to Cortina. It's a long bus ride and he spends a majority of it with his eyes closed and arms wrapped around his backpack while his legs cage in his other bag. When he finally gets to the hotel where he booked himself a room for the night, the sky is getting dark and the temperature has dropped.

His room is nice, in the hotel. It's small and a bit cramped; there's a bed and a dresser on the opposite side of a small table that's placed between the two windows in the room. The windows are decorated with green and yellow floral curtains and on the wall is a television. There isn't much floor space but there's free wi-fi and he'll only be staying for one night anyway.

And, most importantly, it was cheap.

Steve puts his bags in the corner of the room, then sits down on the bed with a tired sigh and digs his phone out of his pocket. He connects to the hotel's wi-fi and smiles when he sees the notifications waiting for him, telling him that there are new messages in the group chat with his friends/roommates.

He opens them and his smile turns soft.

› [ **08:34** ] Sam: Have a safe trip! Let us know when you land.

› [ **08:35** ] Nat: don't crash :)

It's getting late in Italy but it's still early back in Brooklyn. He knows they won't respond though. They should both be at work and neither at their phones but that doesn't stop him from sending a response anyway.

‹ [ **21:19** ] Steve: Made it to the first hotel!

He attaches a picture of his room to the message, then he puts the phone back in his pocket and stands up. He wants nothing more than to sleep; a whole day of traveling has tired him out and there is a long day of trekking ahead of him, but he hasn't eaten anything for a while and his stomach makes a loud, growling noise as a reminder.

There's a young woman at the reception desk when he heads down to the lobby. She looks bored, slumped over the desk with her phone in hand, which is understandable considering the lobby is empty aside from the two of them. When she sees him approach, however, she stands upright and smiles at him.

He smiles back, albeit tiredly. “Buona sera,” he greets her. “Do you speak English?”

He picked up Italian as a kid because Bucky used to live next to an old Italian couple who would constantly switch between languages, so he knows a little bit but it's rusty with disuse even though he brushed up on it in preparation for this trip. He could probably hold a conversation, if he had to.

“I do,” the receptionist says, thankfully. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Where can I find the nearest grocery store?” he asks.

She thinks for a second. “I think there's still one open,” she says and then gives him directions.

Steve thanks her and heads for the store. It takes him a good thirty-five minutes to find the place and by then, the sky has gone pitch black and the streets are quiet. The store is still open though and he finds some snacks and a water bottle for his upcoming hike.

He pays, then heads back to the hotel where he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.

• • •

He wakes up later than he planned, the next morning. His phone tells him that it's just passed eight am which isn't bad but it's still an hour later than he wanted to get up. He doesn't stress about it. Instead he takes in a breath and lets himself have a minute to read through the messages from Sam and Natasha before he gets up.

He showers and eats breakfast at the hotel's free buffet after checking out, his possessions all stuffed into his bigger backpack. A few other people are awake as well. Some of them look like fellow hikers that he expects to see along the trail over the next week.

By nine am, he leaves the hotel with his backpack over his shoulders and sets off to the trail.

• • •

Here's the thing about hiking.

Steve has hiked before, up to several times now. This isn't his first one but every other hike he's ever been on have been hour long ones that were located no more than a subway and taxi drive away from his apartment. This one is different in more ways than one; it's both longer and way further away.

But it's what he needs. He needs time away so he can move on.

The first part of the hike is easy and simple. He walks along the trail and turns when it turns and tries not to feel lonely when he passes by groups and couples hiking together while he's walking alone, earbuds in his ears and music playing lowly. He merely sends them a smile and raises his camera to snap some shots of the nature around him instead of dwelling on the loneliness.

The nature is beautiful and breathtaking so it's easy to focus on

It feels good to be here, Steve decides as he treks on. It feels good to disconnect from the outside world. His phone is in his pocket but set to airplane mode and only on to play his music. There are people around him but none that he knows and none of them really pay him much attention so he may as well be alone.

It feels almost freeing to be here which is exactly what he has needed for weeks now.

Some would say he's running or hiding. Natasha, specifically, has said he's doing both. Before he left and when he told her about this trip, she had given him a judgmental look and called him a coward for running away from the grief instead of dealing with it.

And she's right, he can't deny that.

He is running and hiding but sometimes that's better than the heartbreaking reality waiting for him back home.

He just needs... he needs time, that's all.

Time to collect strength to deal with... _that_.

Although he doubts he'll ever be strong enough.

Steve keeps walking. Morning becomes noon and his stomach reminds him that he needs to eat with a hungry but quiet rumble. He doesn't stop walking, though he does pull out one of the jerky snacks that he bought at the store the night before. It doesn't fill him up but it does stop his stomach from making hungry noises.

It takes him another hour before he spots a lake further ahead. It's big and surrounded by trees that have bloomed and grown during the summer, the leaves folding out wide and still a pretty green color even though the summer months are coming to an end. The trees block out some of the water so Steve can't see how far it stretches but this seems like a good place to take a break.

He snaps a picture of a group of trees with the lake in the background before he heads closer to the water. There's no one else around, all the other hikers already further ahead or behind and it's quiet aside from birds singing in the distance and the wind whistling the tree crowns.

Which is why when there's a sudden splash followed by a loud whistle, he pauses mid-step.

He stands still for a minute, listening, but then there's another splash and curiosity gets the better of him. Steve walks closer, careful to make as little noise as possible to not disturb who- or whatever is by the lake. He steps through the trees and smiles at the sight he's met with.

There, in the clearing by the edge of the lake, is Bucky.

He's standing with his back to Steve and his knees are bend, hair gathered into a messy bun high on his head. His backpack is laying on the ground a couple steps away along with something that looks like a harness, both of them black with red details. Bucky smacks his right hand on his thigh and whistles, then he laughs, bright and joyful.

“Good girl!” he calls, an octave higher than his normal voice.

A dog comes running to him from the water, coat dripping wet. It's carrying a thick stick in its mouth and its tail is going a mile a minute as it runs up to Bucky where it delivers the stick right to him, letting go the second Bucky gets a hold on it.

It takes Steve a second to realize it but then it hits him; that's Lyn, Bucky's dog and best friend.

With a smile on his lips, Steve raises his camera and snaps a series of pictures as Bucky throws the stick out into the lake and Lyn sprints after it, making a loud _splash_ when her body hits the surface. He watches them for a minute but then he decides to make himself noticed and walks closer.

Lyn notices him first. She sees him as she comes running out of the lake, stick in her mouth and ears perked to attention. She stands still for a moment when she does but it isn't long before her tail starts wagging again and she drops the stick by her own paws in order to let out an excited bark.

Bucky turns and follows her eyes to Steve. A bright smile stretches across his face in the same second and he raises his right hand in a greeting.

“Steve!” he calls out.

Steve's feet move on their own. He walks over toward them, a smile on his lips growing wider and wider with every step he takes. Bucky's smile widens too and becomes toothy while Lyn barks and runs around Bucky once before she comes right back to her stick and picks it up.

“Hey,” Steve says when he's close enough and stops walking.

“Hey,” Bucky echoes. His smile softens as he says it.

“Fancy running into you here,” Steve says.

Bucky snorts at him and rolls his eyes but he doesn't get to say anything because then Lyn comes trotting up to Steve and demands his attention, tail wagging and eyes big and stick held proudly between her teeth.

Steve looks down at her and smiles. He holds his hand out to let her sniff it which she does but only for a second before she does a little hop and lifts her head up higher, presenting the stick to him. Steve hesitantly grabs onto the stick, surprised when she immediately lets go and backs up to get ready to run.

He throws it and she sprints after it into the lake.

“And that's Lyn,” Bucky says next to him.

Steve doesn't look away from Lyn when he asks, “A fan of fetch, I'm guessing?”

“Yep,” Bucky says. “If she finds a stick, that's all she wants to do.”

“That's cute. Not gonna lie, I kinda wanna steal her from you.”

“Oh, sure. You deal with the endless energy she has, I could use the break.”

Steve chuckles and opens his mouth to say something. However, he stops himself before the words _well, I could use the distraction_ can leave his mouth because they may have been best friends once upon a time but that was a long time ago and Bucky doesn't know nor is Steve ready to talk about it.

Steve closes his mouth and turns to look at Bucky, a smile on his lips that he hopes doesn't look as fake as it feels.

“Well,” he says. “I'll happily take her off your hands.”

“You say that now,” Bucky says, “but wait 'til she wakes you up at six am for a run.”

“Morning runs, huh?” Steve grins. “That won't be a problem, I already do that.”

“Seriously?” Bucky asks with a breathy laugh. “When I knew you, you could barely get out of bed, let alone go for a run.”

“That was a long time ago,” Steve says. “Things have changed.”

Bucky's smile falters and fades ever so slightly. Steve feels his own smile do the same until it fades from his lips completely, the weight of the many years they have been apart heavy on his chest. They used to be inseparable and now, well.

Now they're here.

“Yeah,” Bucky says in a quiet voice. “They have.”

Steve looks at him for another moment but then he looks away when Lyn comes running back with the stick in her mouth. He takes it from her when she comes up to him with it and he can't help but smile when she circles around herself and bounces on her front paws in excitement.

Next to him, Bucky chuckles.

“So,” Steve says and throws the stick again. “Since we're here, uh. You wanna go to the first lodge together?”

Bucky smiles. “Or,” he says, “we could do the rest of the hike together. If you want.”

Steve's heart does a flip in his chest, something he chooses to ignore.

“I'd like that,” he says, a soft smile on his lips.

• • •

 

  
[Bucky and Steve arriving to the lodge, by [Kai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerily_kai)]

 

They make it to the first lodge on Lavarella before nightfall.

As they near the lodge from the trail leading down a hill to the front, Bucky starts to slow down a bit and Steve instinctively slows down with him. He turns to see Bucky zipping down his jacket and whistling to get Lyn's attention. She comes trotting over to him and sits obediently by his side when Bucky comes to a full stop.

Bucky has what looks like a utility belt around his waist, though most of the pouches look too flat to be carrying anything, and there's a leash attached on the right side of it, hooked onto a metal loop in the belt. He unravels the leash and attaches one end to Lyn's harness.

Steve smiles as he watches. “That's handy,” he says and gestures to the hands-free leash.

“I know,” Bucky says and shoots him a crooked smile. “Neat, right?”

“Sure is. Is a regular leash too boring or?”

Bucky pauses, his smile slipping. Then he shrugs and says, “This is easier.”

The answer is simple and it makes sense, yet Steve can tell there's more to it. The look on Bucky's face says it all. His lips have always tightened when he's lying, that hasn't changed over the years. It doesn't feel like a lie though, it feels like he's hiding something or not telling him the whole truth.

Steve smiles and decides not to ask or push.

The lodge is beautiful, is Steve's first thought when they step inside. It feels more like a home than it does a hotel and it almost reminds him of grandma Barnes' house with its white walls and wooden decor. When he tells Bucky this, Bucky laughs and says he feels the same with a soft smile on his lips.

They check into their rooms which are divided into dormitories. Bucky is put into a dormitory on the complete opposite end of the lodge because he has Lyn along with him, so they part ways in the hall and agree to meet up again for some late dinner since both of them are starving.

The dormitory that Steve gets put into is nice though it is small. There are three beds in here, two on one side and the third on the other with a sink and a mirror by the foot of it. He doesn't see any other baggage or sign that anyone else will be sharing it with him though which is nice.

Steve takes a shower and gets into some sweats before he heads back downstairs, his stomach grumbling with hunger. Bucky isn't there yet so Steve leans against a wall and pulls his phone out of his pocket while he waits.

The signal is shitty and it takes him a while to even connect, even longer for his _I'm alive_ text to his friends to send. By the time it finally does send, a good five minutes after, he hears the unmistakable sound of dog paws on hardwood floor. He looks up from his phone and over toward the sound, a smile already on his lips.

Bucky has showered too, it looks like. His hair is loose and hanging down to an inch below his shoulders, looking soft and healthy and clean. He smiles when he sees Steve and raises his right hand in a silent greeting as he heads over to him.

He still has the belt wrapped around his waist and Lyn is still attached to her leash.

“Hey,” Bucky says and stops a couple steps from him. “You been waiting long?”

“Nah,” Steve says as he pockets his phone. “Just long enough to send a text with this awful wi-fi.”

Bucky's eyes drop down to where Steve's hand disappears into his pocket. They don't stay there for long and when he looks back up at him, there's a small smile on his lips and one of his brows is quirked.

“Girlfriend?” he asks.

Steve huffs. “More like worried friends,” he says. “You wanna grab some food? I'm starving.”

“Sure,” Bucky says. “You wanna, uh, maybe eat it in my room? We can catch up in private.”

“Yeah,” Steve says and smiles. “Yeah, that 'd be nice.”

It's past dinner already but the free buffet is still out, though there isn't much left. They grab a plate each and pile on with whatever is left. Bucky grabs a handful of carrots once his plate is full and Lyn, who hasn't shown interest in any food so far, seems immediately interested in it.

Steve bites back a laugh. “Carrot fan?” he asks and nods down at her.

Bucky huffs in amusement and says, “The biggest.”

Food on their plates, they head to Bucky's room. It's a single room with only one bed and a thick blanket on the floor next to it which Steve guesses must for Lyn. Once the door is closed behind them, Bucky takes the leash along with the harness off Lyn and Lyn shakes and stretches while Steve walks further into the room and sits down on the bed, plate in his lap.

“So, uh,” Bucky says and places his own plate on the bedside table. “I should probably warn you.”

Steve looks over at him, frowning and with a question on his tongue. But the question never gets to leave his mouth because then Bucky pulls his jacket off and reveals his arms in the short sleeved shirt he has on underneath.

Or rather, his _arm_.

Singular.

His right arm looks toned and strong but his left...

His left is a prosthetic. The hand is covered by a black glove, identical to the one on his right, but the rest of the arm is made of silvery and near robotic metal. The elbow bends smoothly when Bucky moves it, the movement silent aside from a quiet whir.

It looks incredible and expensive and Steve has about a million questions.

“Bucky,” he breathes out. “What happened?”

“Army,” Bucky says without looking at him as he pulls the gloves off his hands. “Hey, you mind if I take it off? I've been wearing it all day and my shoulder could use a break. And it needs charging, so.”

“Charging?” Steve asks before he can stop himself. “I mean, no. No, I don't mind. Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Bucky mutters.

He turns around to face away from Steve, though his left side is purposely more covered by his body than his right. He grabs the hem of his shirt with both hands, the prosthetic fingers moving more stiffly than the others. When he lifts his shirt up and over his head, Bucky isn't looking at him.

And Steve? Steve can't look away.

Not because of the prosthetic or the harness wrapped around his torso to keep it on securely but because he's... he's....

Well.

Steve has always known he's bisexual. There were a few years where he thought he was gay, not that he ever told anyone. He only came out as bisexual when he was twenty-three and until then, he was closeted and let everyone assume he was straight, only dating women.

Bucky was a big part of figuring out his sexuality, actually. Steve doesn't think about it much anymore, or he tries not to because it was devastating when Bucky moved away and left his life. But he has always been attracted to Bucky and Bucky has grown up to be a beautiful man.

He's fit and muscular, though his belly is soft. Hair dusts over his chest in a faded pattern that gets darker and thicker as it travels down the length of his middle and disappears into his pants. Steve tries not to stare, he really does, but he can't help it.

Bucky unclasps the harness and pulls the prosthetic off. There isn't much left of his arm, only what looks like just above his elbow. The skin is red and irritated with white and faded scars scattered over the stump and his shoulder too.

The sight of it makes Steve's stomach clench, not with disgust but because Bucky went through something so traumatic and it has left a permanent reminder on his body.

Steve doesn't look away when Bucky turns back around. He doesn't even try to pretend that he hasn't been looking at him because he knows it won't be convincing. Instead, he smiles at him and hopes it doesn't come off as pitiful.

Bucky returns the smile with ease and puts the prosthetic to charge, then he grabs his plate and joins Steve on the bed. He leaves a decent distance between them but he shifts and pulls his legs up under himself to sit criss-crossed with his plate on his shins.

“Dig in?” he suggests with a smile.

Steve nods and says, “Yeah, I'm starving.”

They eat and the food is good and filling which is nice but neither of them say a word and the silence between them is heavy and awkward. There has never really been an awkward or uncomfortable silence between them, back when they were kids. But that was ages ago and assuming they could fall back into their past friendship is probably asking a lot.

Though that isn't why it's awkward and they both know it.

There's a huge elephant in the room and Steve can't pretend it isn't there.

After minutes, Bucky clears his throat. “I know you have questions—”

“Only a lot,” Steve admits, cutting him off.

Bucky smiles, small and tight. “I figured,” he says. “But, uh. Can it wait? I don't feel like talking about it, not right now.”

Steve pauses, then he nods. “Of course,” he says. “You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.”

“I want to tell you,” Bucky says. “Just— Not right now, okay?”

“Bucky,” Steve says and reaches out to put a hand on his knee. “It's okay. Seriously.”

Bucky exhales slowly, releasing a breath he might have been holding for a while now, and his shoulders become lax and not up to his ears anymore. His smile loosens up and widens too which makes crowfeet appear at the corners of his eyes.

Steve stares at him for a moment, then he removes his hand and distracts himself with his food.

“You know,” Bucky says after a pause. “No one calls me Bucky anymore.”

Steve blinks at him. “Really?” he asks around his mouthful.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “It's either James or Barnes these days.”

“Do you— I mean, should I not call you that or?”

“No, I like when you call me that. Makes me think of the old days back in Brooklyn.”

Steve smiles. “Those were good days, huh?”

“Well,” Bucky says with a shrug. “Some days.”

Steve scoffs.

“I'm kidding,” Bucky says and shoves at him with a laugh. “Even when you were sick or fighting the kids bigger than you, they were good days. All of 'em.”

“Damn right,” Steve says with a nod of finality.

“You still live there?” Bucky asks. “Brooklyn, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Not the same building though, that got torn down a while back.”

“They finally realized the building was old and crap?”

“No, actually, they wanted to build a hotel there instead.”

Bucky's smile slips. “And they kicked you out because of that?”

Steve hums in affirmation. “They did,” he says. “I was gonna move anyway, couldn't afford to stay there.”

Bucky is quiet for a while, a frown replacing his smile. “Things didn't get better for you, did they?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“They're not so bad,” Steve says with a one-shouldered shrug.

What he doesn't say is that things did get better. He worked two jobs in his teen years but was able to cut it down to one when he went to college and he was making money and could pay rent on time without having to struggle to get food.

But then his mother got sick and the money was spend on her medical bills instead and he had to move in with his three closest and now best friends because he couldn't afford to live alone on top of that.

He doesn't say that. Instead, he smiles at Bucky and shoves in another mouthful food.

Bucky doesn't return the smile though, frown still firmly in place.

“What about you?” Steve asks then, desperate to change the subject. “Did you stay in Indiana?”

Bucky is quiet, staring at him. He looks like he wants to ignore that question and not let the attention shift away from Steve. If Steve can tell when Bucky is hiding something even after all these years, chances are Bucky can still tell when Steve is hiding something too.

But Bucky lets the attention shift to him anyway.

“For a while,” he says. “My mom wanted us to stay there and settle down so we did. Or they did, at least. I stayed until I left for the army and then I moved to New York, found a place with a good yard for Lyn to run around in.”

Steve smiles and says, “That sounds nice.”

“It is,” Bucky says. “Can't really complain.”

“How's your ma doing, by the way?”

“Good. She remarried a couple years ago.”

Steve's brows jump up in surprise. “Seriously? Winifred Barnes remarried?”

“I know,” Bucky says with a chuckle. “I think we were all surprised when she told us 'cause after the whole thing with my dad, none of us thought she'd want to again. But he's nice, her new husband. His name's Ben and he's a lawyer.”

“Ah,” Steve says and grins. “That's fancy.”

Bucky snorts and rolls his eyes with a smile on his lips.

Steve laughs with him.

They eat in silence for a while but this time it's a comfortable one. Lyn is on the floor somewhere, entertaining herself with a toy that squeaks every time she bites down on it, but Steve doesn't look away from Bucky to check on her. He watches him, a smile on his lips as he eats.

And Bucky smiles back at him, though it fades ever so slightly when their plates are near empty.

“You know I wouldn't have left if I had a choice, right?” Bucky asks, then.

“We were kids, Buck,” Steve says. “I know you didn't have a choice.”

“Yeah, well. Just wish we had stayed in contact or something.”

“Me too,” Steve says with a small smile. “Too bad it was before cell phones were really a thing.”

Bucky hums and says, “Not that you would've been able to afford one anyway.”

Steve pauses with a piece of carrot between his fingers, halfway lifted to his open mouth. He stares at Bucky, stares at the smirk slowly curling onto his lips and the glint in his eyes. It's an expression he knows well, one that Bucky would get anytime he teased him, and it would usually be followed by a headlock.

Bucky doesn't do that now though.

Steve has always been poor. And while that has been hard, especially when he was younger and struggling to make it through each week, Bucky has never shied away from teasing him about it. Not in a mean way but in a way to make light of a tough situation, to make Steve smile during the worst times.

Steve closes his mouth and scoffs. “Jerk,” he says and tosses the carrot piece at him.

It hits Bucky's chest and bounces off, landing on the floor with a dull _thud thud_. Bucky snorts while Steve laughs and bends down to pick it back up but before he can move more than an inch, the carrot is off the floor and in Lyn's mouth.

Steve didn't even see her move but suddenly she's there, scooping the carrot up and chewing it loudly as her tail wags happily. Then she sits down and looks up at Steve with a pleading look in her brown eyes.

Steve blinks at her, then he chuckles and reaches out to pet her.

“Lyn,” Bucky says with laughter in his voice. “Stop begging.”

Lyn lets out a whine and shifts her attention to Bucky, licking her lips.

Bucky stares back, his lips twitching as if he's attempting to hold back a smile.

Steve bites back a laugh and watches them.

Bucky lasts no more than ten seconds before he sighs and rolls his eyes. He grabs a carrot stick from his own plate and Lyn brightens when he lifts it up, her tail wagging and eyes laser focused on the carrot.

Bucky hands it to her and she grabs it, then trots happily over to her blanket to eat it.

Steve watches her for a moment, then he turns to Bucky. “She's never gonna stop begging if you keep giving her what she wants,” he says.

“I know,” Bucky sighs. “But how am I supposed to say no to that cute face?”

Steve snorts and shakes his head, though he doesn't know the answer either.

When their plates are finally empty, Bucky leaves the bed to give Lyn her dinner too. She practically inhales it the second the bowl is put down in front of her and she gets the go ahead.

Meanwhile, Steve puts their plates aside and scoots back to lean against the wall instead. Bucky does the same when he rejoins him on the bed and he turns to him with a smile, one that Steve returns with ease.

“Why the Dolomites?” Bucky asks. “I mean, there are a thousand places to hike in New York. So why here?”

Steve's smile falls. “I don't know,” he says with a shrug. “Had to get out, I guess.”

“Get out?” Bucky asks with that same frown back on his lips.

Steve hesitates. That familiar lump is back in his throat and along with it comes the grief that makes his chest feel tight and his body heavy. It has been a good day, he thinks. He has been out of his head and hasn't thought about any of this for most of it.

All it took was one question.

“My mom,” he says quietly. “She, uh. She died a few weeks ago.”

“Oh,” Bucky breathes out.

Steve looks down at his hands and swallows thickly. His eyes are surprisingly dry, though he did cry the first week after she passed away so he must be dried out by now. Quietly, he's grateful for it because he doesn't want to cry in front of Bucky. Or anyone, for that matter.

“It kind of, uh,” he says, then clears his throat. “It put me in a weird place, mentally. Had to get out for a while, after the funeral. And she always wanted to see the world, especially Italy, so. I don't know, I thought it would be nice to do it for her.”

He stops talking because he isn't sure he can continue without his voice breaking.

Bucky doesn't say anything either for a while. The silence between them lasts a while before Bucky starts moving. He shifts closer to Steve on the bed and puts his arm around him. Steve doesn't look up but he lets himself be pulled into Bucky's side and squeezes his eyes shut despite the dryness of them.

“I'm sorry, Stevie,” Bucky says after a minute, his voice a soft whisper.

Steve takes in a breath. “Can we talk about something else?” he asks tightly.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Yeah, of course. Wanna hear what my annoying sisters have been up to?”

Steve does and Bucky talks until they're both too tired to keep their eyes open anymore.

• • •

The next morning, Steve is woken up to the sound of knocking on his door. He shifts and rolls onto his back while one of his hands automatically move to cover his eyes from the bit of light that shines in through the uncovered window. He inhales deeply and rubs at his eyes, then he drops his hand and looks at the ceiling above.

His body is sore from all the walking yesterday but it's a good kind of sore and one that he has come to enjoy after the other hikes he's been on over the last few years. The soreness tells him that his body works and has been pushed and it tells him that he's alive.

There's another knock on the door followed by a familiar voice calling his name from the other side. The voice is lowered but the wood is thin and just barely muffles it.

Steve smiles and drags himself out of bed with a groan. He smooths down his hair and brushes his fingers through it quickly before he opens the door to give Bucky an annoyed look which he knows is ruined by the smile on his lips.

“Good morning,” Bucky says and smiles toothily at him.

“Morning,” Steve says, then clears his throat when he hears the roughness in his voice. “Are you my personal alarm clock now or what?”

“When you don't get up on time,” Bucky says, his smile turning teasing, “yes.”

Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. “What time is it?” he asks around a yawn.

“Seven-thirty am.”

Steve drops his hand heavily and gives Bucky a flat look.

“I've been up for an hour, pal,” Bucky says. “I've only been waiting for you.”

Steve stares at him tiredly but then he sighs and rolls his eyes before stepping aside and pulling the door further open. Bucky takes the silent invitation and steps into the room, ruffling Steve's hair as he passes. Steve groans and swats at him which makes Bucky laugh and Steve has to fight a smile from forming.

Lyn comes trotting in after Bucky, attached to his hip both literally and figuratively. She gets the leash taken off her as soon as Steve closes the door though and once it's off, she comes right over to Steve with her tail wagging wildly and her tongue lolling out of her open mouth.

Steve smiles and crouches down to pet her, morning grump forgotten immediately.

Bucky falls onto the bed with a sigh, bouncing against the spring of the mattress. Steve looks over at him as he makes himself comfortable there, propping the pillow against the headboard and stretching out along the rest of the bed, hands on his stomach and ankles crossed.

“Comfortable?” Steve asks, his smile crooked on his lips.

“Yep,” Bucky says. “You're clearly not ready to go, so.”

As he says it, his eyes move over Steve's body and his brow raise. His face is one of pure judgment by the time his eyes land back on Steve's face but there's a slight glint in his eyes that is nothing but teasing.

Steve narrows his eyes at him, then he pulls his own sock off and tosses it at Bucky's face.

Bucky scoffs in disgust but he laughs. Steve can't help but join him.

“The fuck kinda way is that to treat an old friend?” Bucky asks, balling up the sock and throwing it back.

“It's not,” Steve says and catches it. “It's how I treat my alarm clock.”

Bucky snorts and makes a face. “Punk,” he says.

“Jerk,” Steve says, like a knee jerk reaction.

It makes Bucky smiles at him and his face turns soft.

Steve stares for no more than a second before he turns around to get ready, cheeks suddenly warm. He's no idiot. He knows he still feels _something_ for Bucky even though it has been years and that _something_ keeps flaring up anytime Bucky smiles, laughs, talks, is in the vicinity.

Steve is no idiot. He knows he will love Bucky for the rest of his life no matter what.

And that love hasn't been platonic since— well, maybe it never was.

Steve digs into his backpack for some clean clothes. Lyn comes over to sniff at both the backpack and the clothes that he pulls out of it but after he pets her briefly, she trots over to the bed, jumps up, and lays down with her head on Bucky's stomach.

Steve doesn't let himself look for more than a second.

Steve stands and shucks off his shirt without thought. He's comfortable with his body now, something he wasn't fifteen years ago when he was still that scrawny and awkwardly lanky kid that Bucky knew him as. Puberty was kind to him and since then, he's been able to build muscles and even grow body hair, though he still has scars from the surgeries it took to fix his heart.

But Bucky hasn't seen him shirtless since he _was_ that scrawny kid which Steve doesn't realize until after his shirt is already off. The realization makes him pause and suddenly he feels overexposed and insecure.

Steve looks over his shoulder and Bucky looks away in the same second to stare intently at Lyn.

Steve feels heat rise to his face rapidly. He takes in a deep breath through his nose as he turns back around and holds it for a second before he lets it back out through his parted lips as quietly as he possibly can.

Having Bucky back in his life feels as natural as breathing but they are still very different from their younger selves, Steve's body and Bucky's lack of an arm make that painfully obvious. While their dynamic (and some feelings, possibly) hasn't changed much, they certainly have.

Steve gets dressed quickly, then he gathers up his things. He never really unpacked because there was no reason to so he only needs to stuff his sleep clothes into his bag and pack away the charger for his camera. Afterward, he shrugs on his jacket, shoulders his backpack, and turns to Bucky with his camera now hanging around his neck from its strap.

“You ready to go, old man?” he asks with a crooked smile on his lips.

Bucky looks over at him, still laying on the bed with Lyn now asleep on his stomach. His eyes are narrowed into slits but the corners of his lips twitch and slowly curl into a smile which ruins the annoyed and mildly offended look he tried to pull.

“Who you calling old?” he asks, amusement in his voice. “I got out of bed before you, _old man_.”

Steve raises his brows and pointedly looks at where Bucky currently is.

Bucky pauses. “This doesn't count,” he says.

“Uh huh,” Steve says. “You coming or not? I'm hungry.”

• • •

They have breakfast together, seated at a table in the corner of the dining room. Lyn is back on her leash and laying by Bucky's feet, though the other visitors don't seem to have a problem with her. A few even come over to say hi and pet her. From the way her tail wags every time someone approaches, Steve guesses she loves the attention.

Steve is the first to finish. When his plate is empty, he leans back on his seat and takes his time enjoying the still warm coffee that they both got along with their breakfasts. Bucky is much slower to finish his breakfast, mostly due to the people coming up to say hi to Lyn.

They're in no hurry though and Bucky doesn't seem to mind.

When Bucky finally does finish his breakfast, they sit for a couple minutes before they decide to get up. Steve grabs both their plates and cups despite Bucky's protests and when Bucky tries to take his own back, Steve turns his back to him and rushes to the kitchen. Behind him, Bucky groans and laughs and Steve smiles.

Before they leave and continue the hike, they stop to thank the family that runs the place. Steve struggles and stumbles over his Italian but the family merely laughs and encourages him to keep going. And Bucky is still fluent, as it turns out.

The weather is nice outside, though a bit chilly but the wind isn't too bad even though they're on a mountain. They walk for about ten minutes, until the lodge is just barely out of view, and then Bucky suddenly stops in his tracks. Steve slows down and turns to him, a question on his lips that never leaves his mouth because he gets his answer as soon as he looks at Bucky.

Bucky is taking the leash off of Lyn who is sitting still as a statue with her ears perked. Bucky takes a step back and rolls the leash up into a small ball that he then puts into one of the belt's pouches. He smiles down at his dog but he says nothing.

Lyn looks back at him, shifting impatiently but staying still.

Steve bites back a chuckle. “Buck,” he says. “Come on, that's cruel.”

“Nah,” Bucky says and grins. “It's called patience training.”

“Is that a real thing?”

“Why, do you need some?”

Steve sends him a flat look but Bucky is still having a staring contest with Lyn so he doesn't see.

“Lyn,” Bucky says then, ten seconds later. “Run free.”

Lyn takes off in a sprint, speeding ahead of them.

Steve watches as she runs around but never going out of sight. When he glances at Bucky, he sees him doing the same with a soft smile on his lips.

“Do you ever worry she's gonna take off and not come back?” Steve asks.

“Nah,” Bucky says. “I trust her. Besides, apparently she spend weeks chained to a pole so I'm not putting her on a leash unless I have to.”

Steve's smile fades in an instant. “What?”

“Her previous owners,” Bucky says, his smile turning sad. “They— well, obviously they didn't treat her right.”

“Obviously,” Steve echoes faintly.

“So when I adopted her from the shelter about a year ago, I vowed that she'd never have to be on a leash unless she really had to. She deserves to have some freedom and she clearly loves it.”

He nods over to where Lyn is coming sprinting back toward them, ears flopping and her tongue lolling sideways out of her open mouth. She look ecstatic.

Steve smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “I can tell.”

With a smile on his lips, Bucky pats his shoulder. “Come on. Daylight's wasting away.”

• • •

They walk for hours with Lyn ahead of them, though she sticks close by and looks back at them every once in a while to make sure they're following. Steve loses count of how many pictures he takes along the way but he ends up nearly filling up the memory card with pictures of tunnel complexes from world war one, caves, and stone ruins, all beautiful.

They take a break before making the climb up the mountainside toward the second lodge. Bucky finds a large rock with a flat surface that he hoists himself onto after lifting Lyn up there and Steve joins them after sliding his backpack off his shoulders. They eat and drink and rest their feet.

“How long have you been hiking?” Steve asks halfway through his snack.

“About a year or so by now,” Bucky says.

“As long as you've had Lyn?”

Said dog is currently asleep, her head in Bucky's lap and curled up tight.

“Nah,” Bucky says and runs a hand down her side. “She came a couple months after I started.”

“So what made you get a furry companion to join your hikes?”

“Well,” Bucky starts. “After I lost my arm, I felt a bit... lost, I guess. Depressed. My therapist told me to try hiking after a few sessions so I went on one and Steve, I fucking hated it.”

Steve snorts when Bucky gives him an exasperated look.

“It was so boring by myself,” Bucky says. “The view was pretty, sure, and I got some exercise but it was awful. I hated it. I saw a couple people walk around with their dogs though and I thought hey, that might make it a little less miserable. My therapist agreed so I went to a shelter and found Lyn. Fast forward a few months of trust training and here we are.”

Steve smiles. “It sounds like you helped each other, you and Lyn.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says and smiles down at her. “We did. We still do.”

“But you're in Italy now,” Steve says. “Not enough hiking spots in New York?”

“There are,” Bucky says. “And we did start there but then we drove further and further away to see new places until flying there was easier, so I figured... I haven't seen much of the world and life is short and she has no problem with flying. Might as well hike the world, see as much as we can.”

“A good plan.”

“What about you? How long have you been hiking?”

“Years.”

Bucky's brows raise with surprise. “Wow,” he says.

“It's part of my job, Buck,” Steve says. “Hiking is perfect for nature photographers.”

“Oh, and here I thought you didn't call yourself a _photographer_.”

Steve narrows his eyes at him, then he lifts his camera and snaps a picture of him without turning the flash off. Bucky groans and turns his head away, eyes closed tight and laughing only seconds after the groan.

“I wasn't ready, punk,” Bucky complains and rubs at his eyes.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Steve says. “What about now?”

He doesn't let Bucky recover and snaps another picture, though he does turn the flash off this time.

“Steve!” Bucky exclaims, laughter in his voice.

“No, no,” Steve says and leans back when Bucky tries to grab the camera. “How about now?”

Steve is sure he gets more blurry pictures of Bucky's hand than he does of his face but it doesn't matter nor does he care because he makes Bucky laugh and smile and that's worth all the bad pictures in the world.

• • •

The next lodge is on a mountaintop. The climb up to it is steep and leaves them panting, Lyn included though her tail never stops moving from side to side. She makes it to the top first too but stops and waits for them to catch up, tongue lolling out of her open mouth.

When they make it up, Steve puts his hands on his hips and blows out a breath while Bucky praises Lyn and gives her a treat that he retrieves from his jacket pocket. She sits down as soon as Bucky unzips his jacket and unravels the leash and she doesn't move while Bucky clips the leash onto her harness and calls her a good girl in a soft whisper.

Steve smiles and tries to ignore how his heart pounds — and not from the climb.

“That was awful,” Bucky complains and stands upright with a groan.

“Yeah,” Steve says, then looks away. “But look at the view.”

The sun is setting behind the countless mountains around them, casting an orange and red hue to the darkening sky. Stars have already appeared as has the moon and it almost looks like a painting. It's gorgeous and so captivating that it takes Steve a while before he remembers to lift his camera and immortalize the moment.

“Wow,” Bucky breathes next to him.

“I know,” Steve says quietly. “Wow.”

They don't stand there for long. Steve is sure he could. He could probably stand right here until the sun was gone and there was nothing but darkness for miles and miles, the lodge next to him the only source of light aside from whatever little comes from the moon and stars above.

He could but Bucky turns to him with a smile and asks if he's ready to go inside. Steve nods and takes one last picture of the sunset before he follows Bucky and Lyn into the warmth waiting for them in the lodge.

The lodge is cozy this time. Unlike the last one, the two of them (and Lyn) are sharing a room and while it's small and a bit cramped, Steve doesn't mind it one bit. Especially not when he pulls the curtains open and sees the view they have of the mountains and the starry sky.

Like a living art piece.

“I don't know about you,” Bucky says somewhere behind him, “but I could really use a shower before dinner.”

“Yeah,” Steve says and looks over his shoulder, his nose wrinkled. “You really could.”

Bucky glares at him halfheartedly. “Shut up,” he says with that familiar Brooklyn drawl.

Steve smiles in reply and makes it as sweet as possible.

“Ass,” Bucky says with a chuckle and a smile. “But seriously. You mind if I use the shower first?”

“Nah, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says. “I won't be long. If you wanna go grab some food now, Lyn can stay here by herself. Don't worry about her, I'll come back for her.”

“Actually,” Steve says. “I think I'll wait here with her. I could use a shower too, so.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, nodding. “Then I will see you in five.”

“Your hair is long. It won't be five minutes.”

“Fuck off, you punk.”

The door closes behind him which leaves Steve alone with Lyn. He looks at her and she looks back at him from where she's sitting on the floor but only for a moment before she stretches and trots over to hop onto the bed. She lays down with a sigh, her head on the pillow.

Steve smiles to himself and decides to leave her be for now.

Instead he changes out of his clothes and hiking boots and into some sweats, then he puts his camera to charge by the nightstand. His phone has been in his backpack since last night and he hasn't bothered checking it. Sam and Natasha will want a sign of life from him, Clint too though he so rarely checks his messages anyway, but a part of him doesn't want to even look at his phone.

His background is still a picture of his mom and it hurts to look at. He misses her and he can't get himself to change the background, probably never will, but the wound is still so fresh. He got out of Brooklyn for a reason. He got out because thinking about her and how she's no longer with him hurts too much.

Steve pulls his phone out anyway. His mom smiles at him when he turns it on but he quickly forces himself to look away, his heart squeezing. He opens the texts waiting for him instead, both from the roommates group chat; Sam has send a single thumbs up emoji while Natasha has send a paragraph of emojis. Steve merely skims over it but he knows there's a joke in there somewhere. She always does that.

Steve snaps a picture of Lyn sleeping on the bed before he types out a text and presses send.

‹ [ **20:03** ] Steve: Made it to lodge number two! Legs are sore but the company is good.

He doesn't wait for a response. He shuts the phone off and slides it back into his backpack, zipping it closed. With it out of his hands and mind, he finds his attention being drawn over to Lyn breathing steadily and quietly in her sleep.

There's something so... calming about her. She isn't doing anything other than sleep but her presence alone makes Steve feel calmer and a little less alone in the world. Maybe that's just the energy that dogs in general give off or maybe there's something special about her, Steve doesn't know and it doesn't really matter either.

Because, he realizes, Bucky might need someone to keep him calm and less alone.

Steve has been watching the nature around them, both through the lens of his camera and with his own eyes. But he has also been watching Bucky. Bucky seems well put together because that's how he presents himself; hiding behind a wall of smiles and positive attitude.

But Steve has seen the slips and the cracks in that wall and it worries him.

Bucky doesn't want to talk about his arm or his time in the army, he made that clear last night and Steve doesn't intend to push him to talk about any of it even though he has a thousand and one questions. None which matter because all that matters to him is whether Bucky is okay or not.

He knows the answer to that though and he knows he isn't always.

No one is, he supposes.

When Bucky comes back from his shower, Steve has migrated over to the other side of the room and is now sitting cross-legged on Bucky's bed with Lyn sound asleep in his lap. She shoots up and hops off the bed as soon as the door handle starts moving though, her tail already wagging before Bucky steps inside.

Bucky's hair is still damp and hanging down to his shoulders. His prosthetic is off and in his right hand, leaving the short sleeve of his shirt hanging down to just below his bare stump though Steve can still see the irritated red of his skin poking out. But he keeps his eyes on Bucky's face, smiles, and doesn't stare.

“Good shower?” he asks, uncrossing his legs and planting his feet on the floor.

“ _Great_ shower,” Bucky says and puts his prosthetic down. “Why are you on my bed?”

“I don't see your name on it.”

“My backpack is on it.”

“And so was a dog,” Steve says. “There wasn't one on the other one so.”

“Ah,” Bucky says and smiles.

Steve watches him for a moment, watches as Bucky crouches down and pets Lyn who immediately steps in between his legs and hops up with her front paws on his shoulders. It leaves her the perfect height to lick at Bucky's face and Bucky smiles widely and lets her.

Steve's heart does a funny flip, something he's painfully familiar with when it comes to Bucky.

Steve goes to the bathroom to shower. He makes it quick because his stomach is growling for food but he makes sure to still be thorough because his body stinks of sweat and a variety of smells from the nature, none of which are good.

When he's done and clothed, he heads back to the room only to find it empty aside from their things and a dog bowl with some kibble still left. There's a note on his pillow, he notices, one that says _gone to the dining room_ in a neat handwriting that he can only assume is Bucky's.

It's a lot different than what it used to be but he still writes his r's the same way.

Steve lifts the note from the pillow and lets himself look at it for a few seconds, his thumb brushing over the letters. Then he folds it up and carefully stuffs it into his backpack. Not that anyone needs to know that he saves it.

Bucky is easy to spot in the dining area when Steve makes it down there. He's seated at the table nearest to the wide doorway leading into the room, separated from the other guests who have migrated further into the corner. He's wearing a long sleeved shirt now and his prosthetic is back on even though Steve knows his shoulder must be killing him by now.

Bucky isn't alone either. Lyn is by his side, of course, but there's a man and a woman standing by the table as well. The man has an arm casually wrapped around the woman's waist and they are both smiling and Bucky is smiling back. There is also another dog with them, one that is sniffing at Lyn with obvious interest but not going very far because it's on a leash.

Steve pauses for a split second but then he keeps walking over there.

“Hey,” he says as he approaches and smiles when Bucky looks to him.

“Steve!” Bucky says. “Hey. This is Camilla and Henry.”

“Hello,” Camilla says and smiles at Steve.

Henry nods his greeting, a smile, though small, on his lips as well.

“Hey,” Steve repeats, this time to them.

“And that's Rover,” Bucky continues, gesturing down to the dog still sniffing at Lyn. “He wanted to say hi to Lyn.”

“Yeah, he pretty much dragged us over here,” Henry says.

“We don't mean to interrupt your dinner,” Camilla says and gives Steve an apologetic smile.

“Oh, you're not,” Steve says. “I only just got here.”

“Steve is a bit slow,” Bucky says, “but I grabbed a plate for you. No mushrooms.”

Bucky slides a plate across the table along with utensils and a tall glass of water. Steve feels a sudden warmth bloom in his chest and he looks at Bucky, knowing full well that he can do nothing to hide the fondness in his smile. Bucky smiles back, a little color in his cheeks.

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve says and sits down.

“Anytime,” Bucky says quietly and bumps their feet together under the table.

Steve looks at him from across the table and Bucky looks back for a second before he dips his chin and smiles down at his own plate.

“You two make a really cute couple.”

Steve blinks, his smile suddenly gone. He looks away from Bucky and to Camilla instead. She is smiling at him, her eyes moving between the two of them. It's a kind smile. Henry's matches though his is a little less wide but no less kind.

Steve blushes, cheeks warm. “Oh. Uh, we're not— I mean—”

“We're just friends,” Bucky says when Steve stammers.

Camilla looks between them. “Okay,” she says and it's clear that she doesn't believe that.

Steve glances at Bucky and sees him looking back. Bucky's cheeks are pink and flushed.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

“Well,” Camilla says, seconds later. “I think we're gonna head to bed. It's been a long day.”

Steve looks back at her and puts on a smile. “Of course,” he says. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” she says. “Your dog too.”

“Good luck on the rest of the hike,” Henry says.

“Thanks,” Steve says. “Right back at 'ya.”

They leave and the silence that follows at the table is awkward. Steve takes his time to look back at Bucky and when he does, he finds Bucky still looking at him but there's a smile on his lips now. It's crooked and tight, like he's holding in a laugh.

Steve blinks and Bucky does the same.

Steve snorts first and then they both laugh and the awkwardness is gone within seconds.

• • •

“So uh,” Bucky says. “Did you ever find a girl to settle down with?”

They're back in their room, sitting on their respective beds on opposite sides of the room and taking turns throwing a soft ball to Lyn who chases after it when she doesn't catch it in the air. Bucky has taken his prosthetic off again and is back in a short sleeved shirt, his feet bare and hair hanging loose.

Steve pauses with the ball in his hand at the question. Lyn nudges impatiently at his knee with her paw and whines so he tosses her the ball but he doesn't take his eyes off of Bucky as he does it, a crooked grin forming on his lips.

“Is that your incredibly subtle way of asking if I'm single?” he asks.

Bucky laughs, a soft chuckle as he rubs his neck. “I guess so, yeah.”

“I am,” Steve says. “I'm very single. Haven't found anyone to settle down with, girl or boy.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can think about it. He's not ashamed of his bisexuality, hasn't been for many years now, but it doesn't matter how old you get or how many times you come out to someone; it will always be terrifying.

Despite the slight fear, Steve doesn't look away and instead holds his head high and squares his shoulders.

Bucky looks surprised but he's smiling. “Boy?” he asks.

“I'm bisexual,” Steve says.

“Wow,” Bucky says. His smile widens. “That's great, pal.”

Steve exhales and smiles. “What about you?” he asks. “Did you find a girl to settle down with?”

“Nah, I don't swing that way,” Bucky says with a shrug. “I'm gay.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses. “Guy then?”

“Nope,” Bucky says. “I'm unfortunately extremely single.”

“Ah.”

They both fall silent but neither of them break their eye contact for a while, not until Bucky raises his hand and tosses the ball toward him. Steve moves to catch it but he misses and it bounces off his fingers instead, sending it flying toward the closed door. Lyn catches it on the bounce back and Bucky laughs which makes Steve smile.

“So,” Steve says once the laughter has died down. “Gay, huh?”

Bucky nods. “Very gay.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You were always weirdly into Luke Skywalker.”

“Hey, he was hot. Don't judge me.”

“Oh, I will absolutely judge you.”

“Come on. You can't tell me you didn't think he was hot too.”

“I didn't.”

Bucky scoffs. “You're a terrible bisexual.”

“Probably but Luke just isn't my type.”

“Then you can't judge me.”

“Watch me.”

Bucky sighs exasperatedly but there's a soft smile on his lips. “You haven't changed,” he says. “You're still the same asshole I remember you being.”

Steve looks at him, meets his eye with a smile of his own.

There's something between them, something heavy and meaningful. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking on his part, he doesn't know but he can always hope. Even if it is nothing but wishful thinking, it doesn't matter because he has Bucky back and it's like a hole has been filled in his life.

“You haven't changed either,” he says.

They both know it's a lie. They've changed, both of them.

Grown up, gone through a lot, survived more.

But some things don't change. They will always be Steve and Bucky — 'til the end.

• • •

Bucky falls asleep first, dead to the world within seconds. He has his back to Steve and Lyn is nestled between him and the wall, his arm laid over her and both of their breathing soft and quiet in the already silent room.

Steve watches him. He has been since before Bucky even fell asleep. He can't take his eyes off of him even though he has his camera in his hands and his thumb keeps pressing the button to siffle through the pictures on it. He doesn't pay any attention to it.

So. Bucky is gay.

That doesn't mean anything and definitely doesn't mean that he necessarily returns the feelings that Steve can't deny are still there for him. They were never really gone, only shoved into the back of his mind. Bucky likes men and Steve is a man but that doesn't mean anything. Though the fact that there's even the slightest chance of it, well.

Steve is only human with foolish hope in his heart.

He doesn't stay up for much longer. He stops pretending to be going through the pictures on his camera and puts it on the nightstand to charge instead. Then he lays down and makes himself comfortable underneath the blanket. His eyes drift back to Bucky only seconds after his head has landed on the pillow.

He keeps his eyes right there until they fall shut and he falls asleep.

• • •

When Steve wakes up the next morning, it's still dark but he feels well rested. He shifts and rolls over onto his back, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stretches his legs. He inhales deeply and lets the breath come back out as a yawn, then he clears his throat and sits up.

He stretches his arms high above his head until his shoulders and back pop and he groans as his arms fall back down and land heavily in his lap. He sits there for a minute to let himself come to his senses, then he turns his head and looks over to the other bed in the room.

Bucky is awake too. He has rolled onto his back and has Lyn laying halfway on top of him though she doesn't seem to be all that awake yet. His hand is sliding down along her side in slow and gentle strokes, head tilted down to look at her which gives him a slight double chin.

“Morning,” Steve says and runs his fingers through his own hair.

Bucky looks at him and smiles. “Morning, pal.”

“Wanna go watch the sunrise?”

• • •

They sit on a wooden bench on the terrace surrounding the lodge, each wearing their jackets since the morning air is chilly up here. Lyn is asleep by Bucky's side, halfway under the bench but otherwise stretched out and letting out a soft snore every few minutes.

It's quiet around them. No one else is awake aside from them and the lodge owners, not even the birds have started singing yet though a few have started chirping in the distance. It's nice and peaceful, this quiet, and Steve almost forgets about the camera in his hands when the sun starts to peek up behind the mountaintops where it casts a gorgeous red light across the sky.

But then Bucky nudges him and tells him to take a picture so Steve does but he only snaps a couple before he decides to just sit back and enjoy the start of the day without a lens obscuring the view.

They sit there in the quiet for a while, neither saying a word until the sky starts brightening.

“Do you believe in destiny?” Bucky asks then. “Soulmates, that kind of stuff?”

Steve glances at him. Bucky isn't looking back at him. He's still watching the sun rise in front of them and casting a glow of red and orange and pink on the sky that is now no longer dark and filled with stars.

In the dawn light, he looks breathtaking.

“I don't know,” Steve says with a half shrug. “Maybe. Why?”

Bucky turns his head to meet his eye and says, “I think we were destined to meet again.”

Steve blinks at him, his cheeks warm with a blush and his heart skipping in his chest.

 _Soulmates_ , Bucky had said as if to imply the two of them could be that.

Steve doesn't believe in that stuff but if he were to have a soulmate somewhere out in the world, he can't imagine it would be anyone but the man sitting next to him right now. Back in the day, it always did feel like him and Bucky against the world and Steve has lived a life without him and hated every second of it.

Soulmates.

 _Yeah_ , Steve thinks. _That wouldn't be so bad_.

Out loud, he smiles and says, “Getting sappy in your old days, huh?”

Bucky huffs and elbows him in the side. “Shut up,” he says in a mumble.

Steve laughs and elbows him back but his laughter dies down quick and settles as a soft smile on his lips anyway. Bucky looks back at him and smiles too, his cheeks flushed into a pretty pink.

“I don't believe in destiny or soulmates,” Steve says. “But I'm really glad to have you back in my life, Buck.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment. There's a softness to the expression on his face and there's a look in his eyes that can only be described as fond. Steve does his damnedest to sit still even though that look alone makes him want to lean forward and kiss him. Somehow, he succeeds.

“I'm glad to have you back in my life too, Stevie,” Bucky says into the quiet.

Steve smiles and allows himself to scoot closer to Bucky. Their hands touch on the bench but neither of them acknowledge it though neither move away either. Steve keeps his hand there and lets his pinky brush against Bucky's when he feels Bucky's do the same to his.

The watch the rest of the sunrise like that.

It's a good way to start the day.

• • •

The next few days pass in a blur of gorgeous landscapes.

Steve fills up a second and part of a third memory card with pictures of just about every new spot they come across. Every tree, every new mountainside, every change in the sky above them, any- and everything. Most of the pictures are useless and will be deleted eventually but in the moment as they walk, every little pebble on the ground is worth taking a picture of, even their own shadows on the mountain ground.

When they come across the iron cables on the steeper part of the hike, he takes pictures of them too although Bucky is quick to tell him to put the camera down and focus on where he's walking so he doesn't fall. Steve listens and does for about a minute but then Bucky lifts Lyn up from the ground to carry her across a path too unsafe for her and how is he supposed to not take a picture of that?

He ends up taking a bunch of pictures of Lyn, in the end. Bucky too although he deliberately tries not to. He is a nature photographer, not a people photographer. That and he hasn't asked for his permission either.

He tries to be stealthy about it when he does do it but Bucky spots him doing it anyway. He doesn't question it though nor does he get mad. Instead he strikes a pose and asks if the lighting is good as he puts his hand in his loose hair, makes an exaggerated smoldering face, and cocks his hip out.

Steve swallows around his suddenly dry throat and croaks out a _yes_ as he takes a picture.

Lyn is easier to photograph. She's very photogenic and he makes sure to tell Bucky that while he snaps picture after picture of her as she circles a flock of sheep on a large grassy field that she hopped over a wooden fence to get to. Bucky smiles fondly and agrees.

“If she looks good with the crappy camera on my phone,” he says, “then she'd be a damn model in front of a professional lens.”

And she truly is. It's effortless and there are even a couple pictures that could easily become the cover of a magazine. It has very little to do with the fact that Steve knows what he's doing behind the camera and all to do with her and her natural beauty.

Hiking with Bucky and Lyn is nice and way better than hiking alone would have been. It makes forgetting about what he's running from so easy but you can only run from your problems for so long before they come back with their fists raised.

This break from grieving was good while it lasted though.

• • •

His mother is here, standing in front of him with a smile on her lips. Her face is blurry like it's out of focus but her smile is clear as day, breaking through the blur. It's a soft smile, one that makes her cheeks dimple and one that reminds him of his childhood.

Her hand is stretched out as if to touch his face but Steve can't feel it. He feels small because of the way she's bending down with her other hand on her knee like she used to do when he was younger. It's like he's a kid again and has just fallen and scraped both his knees on the gravel road outside their building.

 _Mom_ , he tries to say but the word doesn't leave his mouth.

He wants to reach out and hold onto her and never let go.

He wants to bring her back with him because he knows this isn't real.

“ _My sunshine boy_ ,” she says softly and then he opens his eyes.

He stares at the ceiling above him. The room is still dark but the sun has started to rise outside, casting bits of light in through the shut curtains. He blinks and swallows thickly, then he shuts his eyes again. There's a heavy feeling in his chest and it's one that he has become familiar with since his mom passed away.

Grief is tightening its claws around his heart and it hurts.

He doesn't move but he does open his eyes again when he hears movement on the other side of the room. He hears Bucky yawn and dog paws against the wooden floor coming toward him. Seconds later, he feels a wet snout touch the back of his hand so he lifts it and pets Lyn but he doesn't look away from the ceiling.

“Steve,” Bucky says in a quiet voice. “You awake over there, pal?”

“Yeah,” Steve says monotonously. “I'm awake.”

It takes all the strength he has to sit up and look awake too. He doesn't look over at Bucky, instead he looks at Lyn and scratches her behind her ear. She sighs contently and leans into his hand and he swallows thickly and ignores the urge to curl back under the covers and skip today.

There's nothing he wants more but he can't.

Bucky gets up and starts getting ready for the day. Steve should be getting ready too but it takes him ages before he's able to drag himself out of bed and actually do it. By the time he's dressed and ready to go, Bucky has been waiting for him for several minutes. He's been watching him too, Steve knows, but he hasn't said anything yet.

With his backpack over one shoulder, Steve lifts his eyes from the ground and finally looks at him.

Bucky is frowning at him, his brows furrowed and an unhappy downward curl in his lips. Steve smiles and hopes it will be convincing enough that Bucky will smile back at him and not ask any questions but he knows he isn't fooling anyone.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks after a moment.

Steve's smile drops and he shrugs. “I'm fine,” he lies.

It's not a very convincing lie either and Steve knows that Bucky doesn't believe him for a second. But instead of pushing him to tell the truth, Bucky merely nods and asks if he wants to get some breakfast before they start on the day.

When they get back on the trail, Steve is quiet. Bucky is too but Steve can't blame him for that. Steve is being distant and is making no effort to break the silence so why would Bucky bother trying? It takes two to tango and all that. But the silence is awful and doesn't stop Steve from spiraling bit by bit.

It's a steep climb again today. They aren't saying more than a couple words to each other when they need to but they stick close together during the trek anyway. Even Lyn doesn't stray far from them for more than a few seconds before she comes running right back to them with her tail raised high.

Steve keeps getting lost in his own head so he doesn't notice that Bucky never goes farther than a step away from him and is sticking by his side the whole way. He doesn't notice that Bucky keeps waiting for him when he takes a second too long to catch up nor does he notice the worried look on his face.

Bucky doesn't ask any questions, though Steve doubts he needs to.

They have been apart for years but Bucky always was good at reading him like an open book.

Steve used to hate that and a part of him still does but mostly he's missed it.

Hours pass after their brief lunch break and by the time they make it to the highest point of the hike, the sun has already started its slow decline behind the mountaintops. They stop there and both let out a heavy breath before they look out onto the scenery.

It's an amazing view but that's not surprising, neither is the breathtaking beauty of it.

Steve's hand move on instinct; he raises his camera and puts it up to his face, looks through the viewfinder and snaps several pictures as he very slowly turns in a circle to capture as much of the scenery as possible.

For a second, Steve forgets to grieve but his mother doesn't leave his mind. He snaps another picture and feels a smile start to pull at the corners of his lips when he thinks about how much his mom is gonna love these pictures and—

Oh.

Steve freezes, finger on the trigger but not pushing. He blinks and slowly lowers the camera, smile gone from his lips. He swallows thickly around his suddenly tight throat and the world around him wastes away as the wind sweeps by him.

He hasn't cried in well over a week by now. He cried so much the first week after his mom passed away that he doesn't think he even could cry anymore but his eyes feel wet. He doesn't want to cry, not here, but he doubts he could stop it if it starts.

“Steve?” he hears Bucky says beside him.

Steve doesn't turn to look. He doesn't need to to know that Bucky is inching closer and closer to him while still keeping an appropriate distance to give him space. And Steve loves him for that, loves that he is so considerate.

He could tell him. Steve could tell Bucky that he loves him. He _should_ tell him.

But when he opens his mouth, it's not a confession that comes out.

“I miss my mom,” he says. His voice cracks around the words.

Bucky says his name again but this time it's in a quiet and breathy voice before he steps into his space. He slides his arm around Steve's shoulders and Steve lets himself be pulled into his side. He lets himself lean into Bucky and be held for just a moment that stretches into minutes and minutes.

• • •

How they make it to the next lodge before nightfall, Steve doesn't really know. They stand on the cliff for far too long before Bucky starts to lead them forward again. His hand slides down until he grabs Steve's and Steve holds on tight and follows him. They walk in silence the whole way, with Steve drifting in and out of his own head and missing the view.

And if Steve cries and they stop and go behind a group of trees for some privacy while Bucky holds him and lets him, then that's between him and Bucky and Lyn.

Warmth welcomes them when they step into the lodge. Bucky checks them into their shared room while Steve sits down with Lyn's leash in his hand and pets her. Steve skips the shower once they've settled into the room even though Bucky tries to get him to take one. He doesn't try long and leaves him alone for a bit while he himself goes to shower.

Steve sits down on the bed he chose as his with his phone in hand. He stares down at the black screen of it and lifts his other hand to put it on top of Lyn's head when she hops onto the bed and climbs into his lap, laying down with a soft huff. It takes him a minute but then he unlocks the phone and looks at his mom.

He misses her. Losing a parent isn't easy but she was everything to him. His dad passed away when he was barely two so he doesn't remember ever having one. It has always just been him and his mom, she raised him on her own and he was no easy child. He was sick, stubborn, difficult.

But he turned out okay, thanks to her.

On the screen she smiles brightly at him and he finds himself smiling back, albeit sadly.

Steve opens his messages and scrolls until he finds Sam's number. He types out a message and hits send before he can talk himself out of it again.

‹ [ **19:13** ] Steve: I miss her.

He has never been good at admitting his feelings, especially the hard ones. Sam has tried to make him open up more and more in the now many years they've known each other and sometimes he succeeds and sometimes he doesn't. But if Steve were to admit to not being okay to anyone, it would be him.

The reply comes surprisingly quick.

› [ **19:15** ] Sam: You ok?

Steve lets out a breath and starts typing but before he can finish, the door to the room opens and Bucky steps inside. He has showered and changed clothes but his prosthetic is still on. He smiles when Steve looks up at him, a small but kind smile.

“That looks cozy,” he says and gestures to the two of them.

Steve smiles back and knows it looks tired. “Yeah,” he says. “It is.”

In his lap, Lyn stretches and sighs heavily.

“Well,” Bucky says. “I was gonna go grab some dinner. You wanna join me?”

Steve wants to go to bed but he nods anyway. “Yeah, just give me a second.”

He finishes the text to Sam and hits send.

‹ [ **19:16** ] Steve: No but I'm working on it.

If he gets a reply he doesn't know because he leaves the phone behind in the room when they go to dinner. Lyn comes with as well but she stays asleep, laying underneath the table with her head between Steve's feet and the rest of her body by Bucky's.

They eat in silence until their plates are near empty.

“I'm sorry,” Steve says then, “for checking out today.”

“It's okay,” Bucky says. “It happens. Besides, it wasn't so bad. I just had another dog to keep track of.”

Steve huffs. “Are you seriously comparing me to a dog?”

“Yep. A golden retriever, specifically—”

“Well, that's great.”

“— who's a _bit_ off but still very cute.”

Steve laughs. “You are such a jerk,” he says.

“I know,” Bucky says and smiles. “But you love me anyway.”

Steve looks at him and says nothing. He could deny it but he doesn't because he's tired of lying and he's tired of Bucky not knowing, even if him knowing will lead to Steve being turned down. Steve is okay with that. He has never expected Bucky to feel the same but these years have given him perspective and these days with him have clued him into Bucky's feelings.

And maybe he feels the same after all.

Across the table Bucky pauses when he realizes Steve isn't denying it or playing along with the joke. His lips part ever so slightly but he doesn't say anything and his cheeks turn a pretty pink that quickly becomes flushed red.

There's no running now, Steve knows that.

“Can we go back to our room?” he asks quietly.

Bucky nods silently, his eyes wide and never leaving Steve.

• • •

The tension is heavy when they get there. Steve sits on his bed with his feet planted on the floor, his knees bend, his hands folded between them, and his elbows resting on his thighs. Across from him is Bucky, sitting cross-legged on the opposite bed while Lyn has made herself comfortable on her own bed on the other end of the room.

Steve looks at Bucky and Bucky looks back.

This tension between them is old and, looking back, there has probably been _something_ between them for years and years. But Steve didn't know what being in love was or what it meant or felt like back then so he had no idea. He knows now and maybe, just maybe, Bucky loved and loves him too.

Neither of them say a word; Bucky because he's waiting and Steve because he doesn't know where or how to start.

Eventually he figures it out.

“Back then,” Steve starts, “before you left. I never really realized how much you meant to me or in what way I cared about you. And still do. I think I was sixteen when I finally realized that I was in love with you and I only did because I started experiencing similar feelings for this girl. It was... familiar.”

Bucky takes in a breath but he stay quiet.

“The only difference,” Steve continues, “is that when she left, those feelings went away with her. And when you left, well. I never stopped loving you and I doubt I ever will.”

“But you barely know me anymore,” Bucky says. “I've changed a whole lot.”

“I know,” Steve says. “But you're still the man that I love. You could change a hundred times and I would still love you because when I look at you or even think about you, I— I don't know, you make me nervous and happy and when I look at you, I feel like my heart is about to burst out of my fucking chest.”

“That's dramatic,” Bucky comments in a whisper but Steve ignores him.

“I used to think the world of you,” he says. “I used to think you hung the fucking moon, Buck, and I still do. Always will. You could change into a completely different person and by God, I hope I'm by your side to see the man you end up becoming because that's the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Steve exhales sharply when he finishes, his heart in his throat.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Bucky is looking at him, unblinking and his cheeks a bright pink shade. Steve desperately wants him to say something even if that something ends up being a rejection and a soft and gentle let down. Something tells him that won't be it though.

An eternity passes, then Bucky's eyes move down the length of Steve's face and he licks his own lips. He inhales deeply, a heated look in his eyes. Instinctively Steve licks his own lips too and feels his breath catch in his throat when Bucky bites his bottom lip.

Ah. That's how it is.

“You look like you're about to kiss me,” Steve says with a hoarse voice.

“I've thought about it,” Bucky says without looking away. “For years.”

“Are you finally going to?”

Bucky looks away from his lips to meet Steve's gaze. The tension gets heated.

“Do you want me to?” Bucky asks.

“Yes,” Steve says. “I want you to.”

Time stands still for a second.

In the next, Bucky unfolds his legs and stands. He keeps his eyes on Steve as he walks the short distance between the two beds and Steve keeps his eyes on him, watching with bated breath. Bucky pauses in front of him but not for more than a second before he lifts a knee to the bed and sits down onto Steve's lap.

Steve's hands automatically go to his hips, his grip light though it tightens ever so slightly when Bucky raises his hand and rests it on his cheek. He releases the breath he's been holding as soon as Bucky's thumb brushes over his cheekbone in a gentle caress.

Bucky doesn't say anything. His thumb moves from Steve's cheekbone down to his lips, slowly dragging across the bottom. Steve lets his lips part, unable to look away. There's a beat after Bucky removes his thumb from Steve's lips and then he leans down to close the distance between them and kisses Steve.

The kiss is soft but firm and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss back.

Bucky tastes like the dinner they just had, like homemade bread and meat and sauce and Steve has never been hungrier. His hands move from Bucky's hips to his back and his arms snake around him to pull him closer even though there's barely any space between their bodies already. Bucky makes a pleased sound against his lips, tilts his head ever so slightly, and opens his mouth. Steve's opens with it and the kiss deepens.

The taste of him is stronger now and Steve never wants it to end.

But it does when Bucky pulls back.

He doesn't go far, only leans back about an inch. Steve opens his eyes when he does and watches as Bucky exhales slowly before his lips, red and shiny with spit, curl into a smile. When Bucky opens his eyes too, he looks at Steve and the hand on his cheek moves to rest on the back of his neck.

“I think it goes without saying,” Bucky says quietly, “but I love you too.”

Steve smiles and his heart pounds. “Yeah?” he asks just as quiet.

“'Course,” Bucky says. “What, did you think I kissed you for no reason?”

“I don't know,” Steve says after a beat. “Maybe.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment. He then leans further back and moves his hand around to grab Steve's chin. He holds it tight and forces him to look him in the eyes. Steve does willingly. He already was, after all.

“I love you, Steve Rogers,” Bucky says. “I have loved you before I knew what love was and I will love you until they put me six feet under. You got that?”

Steve can't help but smile. “No,” he says. “Can you repeat that?”

Bucky narrows his eyes but he's smiling too.

“A kiss might help me understand,” Steve says, his smile wide.

Bucky laughs and shakes his head. “You are such a punk,” he says with fondness in his voice.

“I know,” Steve says. “But you love me anyway.”

“But I love you anyway,” Bucky says. “Heaven help me, I do.”

He doesn't let Steve get another word out before he leans in and kisses him again. Steve kisses him back on instinct as if they've done this a hundred times before even though it's only their second kiss. They move together so easily that you wouldn't think it but the hunger they both kiss with is one of years of pining and need and _want_.

Bucky licks at his lips and Steve lets his mouth fall open to welcome his tongue. Bucky moves his hand back to Steve's neck and Steve moves one of his up the length of Bucky's back until he can slide his fingers into the soft, loose, and freshly washed locks that is Bucky's hair.

Bucky hums into the kiss and rolls his hips in silent encouragement so Steve decides to further test the waters. He curls his fingers into a fist around locks of hair and tugs, just a little. It makes Bucky moan and his hips stutter and Steve keeps his hand like that while his other travels down and finds Bucky's thigh.

Bucky spreads his legs and slides further into Steve's lap, pressing them flush against one another as they kiss and Steve touches him. Bucky has grabbed a fistful of the back of Steve's shirt by the time Steve's hand moves up his thigh and toward his crotch.

Steve is getting hard and he knows Bucky is too.

Bucky keeps rolling his hips, pressing himself against him and making it obvious.

And Steve _wants_.

Steve gets his hand on the bulge in Bucky's pants and Bucky pulls away with a gasp.

His lips are red and wet, his eyes dark and dazed, and Steve wants to ruin him.

“Steve,” Bucky says hoarsely. “Stop teasing.”

“I'm not teasing,” Steve says and ducks down to kiss his neck.

At the same time, he squeezes with both hands. Bucky's hips jerk and he moans.

“Steve,” Bucky says again. “Fuck. Take my shirt off.”

Steve looks at him then he looks down at the shirt in question. He takes his hand off Bucky's bulge and lightly touches along the hem of his shirt. Bucky leans back as he does, expecting him to take it off.

Steve looks at him through his lashes. “This shirt?” he asks.

“Yeah, come on. Don't make me beg.”

“Maybe I want you to.” But he's already pulling the shirt up.

“You don't,” Bucky says because he's got him figured out.

“I don't,” Steve agrees and takes Bucky's shirt off before dropping it to the floor.

Bucky already has his prosthetic off. It's charging on the nightstand and his stump is still shiny with the ointment he had put on after dinner. Steve leans back a little and lets himself look and take in the hair that decorates his sculpted chest and travels down his soft stomach where it disappears into his pants. His left side is full of scars, some angry and red and others white and faded.

He's gorgeous and Steve pulls him in for a heated kiss, his hands on the naked skin before him.

The kiss is cut short when Bucky breaks it. Steve chases after him with a displeased grunt and Bucky chuckles and leans further away. Steve huffs at him and kisses his neck instead, his hands finding Bucky's hips and pressing him forward against himself.

“Steve,” Bucky says, laughter in his voice. “You're supposed to get naked too.”

At that, Steve leans back and looks at him. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. What did you think this was, me offering you my body as a buffet?”

“I mean...” Steve trails off and bites his lip.

Bucky smacks his shoulder. “Shut up and take your shirt off.”

Steve laughs but he nods and takes his hands off Bucky. He practically rips his shirt off and tosses it somewhere else before he grabs Bucky again and kisses him. Bucky kisses him back, smiling into it and his hand touching Steve's bare chest.

“We doing this?” Steve asks against his lips.

“I want to,” Bucky whispers. “Don't got lube or condoms though.”

“Neither do I. This wasn't exactly part of the plan when I was packing.”

“Obviously.”

“But. We can do other things.”

Bucky smiles and kisses him. “Do other things to me, Steve,” he whispers quietly.

“I'd be happy to,” Steve whispers back and holds onto him as he lays back on the bed.

In the end, it doesn't take much for either of them to get off. Bucky comes with Steve's wet hand wrapped around his cock and his mouth inches away, kissing along his trembling thighs, and Steve spills into Bucky's hand while Bucky kisses him.

And every second of it is perfect.

• • •

 

“I can't believe we just did that in front of her.”

“She's a dog, Steve. She doesn't care.”

“Yeah but—”

“But nothing. She's been asleep for the past hour, she didn't see anything.”

“But—”

Bucky pushes himself up with a groan. “You are ruining my afterglow,” he complains.

Steve grabs him to stop him from going anywhere, his grip tight on his bicep. He tugs at him and Bucky falls back down willingly with a smile on his lips. Steve smiles back for a brief moment before he kisses him.

Bucky is laying next to him on the bed. He has his arm slung over Steve's middle and a leg tugged between Steve's own two. Steve lets his arm snake around him now that he's back down and not going anywhere, keeping him close as they kiss. It's nice even though they're both a bit sweaty and sticky even after wiping off their stomachs and hands.

Bucky hums into the kiss when Steve starts moving his hand up and down the length of his back in gentle strokes. It doesn't take long before that hand travels down to his ass and cups it, a finger teasing its way between the cheeks.

“Round two already?” Bucky asks against his lips and spreads his legs.

Steve hums in affirmation and moves his kisses to Bucky's neck while he presses a dry finger to his hole.

“What about my dog—”

“Shut up about the fucking dog.”

Bucky laughs but he doesn't mention her again and only begs and moans Steve's name.

• • •

They don't talk about it the next day though they probably should.

But they don't pretend nothing happened either.

• • •

When Steve wakes up the next morning, the heavy feeling of grief is dull. It's still there and probably always will be there in the back of his mind but it's easier to ignore now. It's especially easy to push aside when he shifts his head a little and feels something tickling his nose. It takes him a second to realize that it's hair.

He opens his eyes and lifts his head from the pillow.

Bucky is sound asleep, breathing softly in Steve's arms. He has his back against Steve's chest and his arm stretched out over the length of the bed, his hand hanging over the edge. On the floor is Lyn, laying belly side up and snoring softly in her sleep.

Steve watches her for a moment then he smiles and lays his head back down. He shifts closer to Bucky and burrows his face into his hair until his lips find the soft skin of his neck. He peppers it with butterfly kisses while his arms snake further around his middle.

Bucky makes a noise and shifts, not quite awake but not asleep anymore either.

Steve brushes Bucky's hair out of his face and tugs it behind his ear, placing a kiss to his bare shoulder. Bucky doesn't react to it nor does he react when Steve kisses up along his neck until his lips reach his cheek and he kisses him a couple times there in an attempt to wake him.

“Buck,” Steve whispers in his ear. “Come on, wake up.”

Bucky groans at that and his face scrunches.

“Buck,” Steve tries again, a little louder this time.

Bucky moans tiredly and buries his face in the pillow. “Time 's it?” he asks in a muffled mumble.

“I don't know,” Steve says and drops a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Sun ain't up yet though.”

“Then why the hell are you?” Bucky asks. “Go back to sleep, Steve.”

“Come on, old man,” Steve says and squeezes him. “We've got places to go, things to see.”

Bucky groans in reply but he rolls over and buries his face against Steve's neck instead. The bed isn't that big and they're two grown men who aren't particularly small so it's a tight fit and moving almost sends Bucky tumbling off the bed but they make it work.

When they're both on their sides, it's comfortable.

“How are you not as tired as me?” Bucky asks.

“I don't know,” Steve says and kisses the side of his face. “Maybe 'cause you're older.”

“Yeah, by a whole fifteen months.”

“Still older.”

Bucky grunts and nuzzles his face into Steve's neck. He stays there for a couple minutes and Steve smiles and cards his fingers through Bucky's hair. They're in no rush to get up and this is good, this is everything Steve has dreamed of since he was a teenager.

Bucky shifts a bit closer and lifts his head until they're laying nose to nose. With a smile, he leans in and plants a soft kiss to Steve's lips. Steve returns both with a happy flutter in his chest.

“Morning,” Bucky mutters barely an inch away.

“Morning,” Steve echoes quietly.

They trade lazy kisses for a few minutes but are then interrupted by a nearby whine. Steve lifts his head to look over Bucky's shoulder and sees Lyn standing with her front paws on the edge of the bed, her eyes big and pleading.

Bucky laughs when he sees her. “And good morning to you too, Lyn,” he says.

Lyn whines again and shifts impatiently.

“What?” Bucky asks in a sigh and Steve bites back a laugh.

Lyn nudges Bucky's back with her snout and barks as she leans back.

“Unbelievable.” Bucky groans and turns back to Steve. “Well, I guess we're getting up now.”

Steve grins and holds his hand up to Lyn. “High five, Lyn.”

Lyn slaps her paw against his palm in a high five.

• • •

It doesn't take long to get out of bed after that because any time either of them try to start something or they kiss for a second too long, there's an impatient dog whining and pawing at Bucky's back. Steve should mind since having Bucky like this is so new and everything he's dreamed of but he doesn't. Not one bit.

He can't blame her either. He wants to get on with the day as badly as she does.

They eat breakfast outside, sitting thigh to thigh on a bench with their plates balanced in their laps. Lyn is laying on the ground nearby, gnawing on a stick that she holds between her paws. It's peaceful with the birds chirping and the other hikers getting started on the day too.

Bucky and Steve take their time and sit there for a couple minutes after they finish their breakfast, Steve with his arm slung over Bucky's shoulders and Bucky with his head leaned against Steve. Then, when it has been long enough, they decide to get going.

They talk during the day's hike. They talk about everything and nothing and anything except for what they should talk about. Neither of them bring up what happened last night and neither of them acknowledge that they're holding hands and exchanging kisses along the trail like it's the most normal thing to do because they've been doing it for ages.

Steve is grateful for that in a way. He knows that talk won't end well because, well.

The next lodge is the last one.

Steve is heading back to the airport tomorrow.

Tomorrow, this — the hike, he and Bucky, whatever they are now — will be over.

There is so much they haven't done together yet and so much they haven't said. There's so much he doesn't know and time is running out for them. Or so it feels like.

• • •

They take a break underneath a tree for lunch, sitting on the forest ground. Steve sits down first and leans against the stump as he spreads his legs to let Bucky sit down between them. Bucky makes himself comfortable there, then he turns his head with a smile and Steve leans in to kiss the corner of his lips because he can't not. Bucky kisses him back as good as he can in this position.

Around them Lyn continues to explore but she stays relatively close so they both can still keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't run off or into trouble. Her nose is in the grass and her tail is wagging happily though the latter is nothing new. It hasn't really stopped this whole trip. It's clear that she loves every second of being out here.

Steve can relate.

They eat their prepacked lunch and Lyn eventually ventures over to them. She sits down prettily next to them and gives them both pleading eyes. Bucky gives in first and gives her a bite and Steve follows suit not long after. Satisfied, she lays down with her head on Bucky's outstretched leg and closes her eyes.

When the food is gone except for a couple carrots that Bucky stuffs back into his own backpack, Steve slides his hand down Bucky's right arm until he can slip it into Bucky's and intertwine their fingers. Bucky makes a pleased hum and rests his head on Steve's shoulder as he gives his hand a squeeze.

Steve rubs his thumb over the back of his hand. Curiosity finally wins.

“I wanna ask you something,” he says.

Against him, Bucky turns his head a little. He stays quiet.

“About your arm,” Steve clarifies.

“Ah,” Bucky says. “Only took you a week.”

“I didn't think you wanted to talk about it so I didn't ask.”

“But?”

“But... Bucky, what happened?”

“Army.”

“You said that. Care to elaborate?”

Bucky falls quiet, hesitating.

“I'm sorry,” Steve says. “You don't have to—”

“No,” Bucky interrupts. “It's okay.”

He's quiet again but Steve doesn't say anything. He waits and lets him do it in his own time.

“I joined the army after my first year of college,” Bucky starts. “Remember how my dad had a military career? Yeah, college wasn't really my thing at the time or maybe I wasn't studying the right thing, doesn't matter. I dropped out and joined the army to follow in my pa's footsteps.”

“You hate the military,” Steve says. What he doesn't add is _and your pa_ because he knows it's not necessary. He remembers how George Barnes was, how he came back worse and worse after every tour the military send him on until eventually Winifred had had enough, divorced him, and moved them away.

“I do,” Bucky says with a half shrug. “I hate it even more now, lemme tell ya.”

“I can imagine.”

“Anyway. I was in the army for five almost six years and was part of a great squad with great people. I still talk to them occasionally but most of them are still stationed overseas so it's hard. We, uh. We were on patrol one night, nothing we hadn't done a hundred times before, and then boom. Mine went off and I lost my arm.”

Steve squeezes Bucky's hand and presses his lips to his clothed shoulder.

Bucky squeezes back and exhales.

“I was in the hospital for a while after,” he continues. “Surgeries, physical therapy, all that. When I eventually got dispatched, I started seeing a therapist. I wasn't doing well, wasn't really coping, and I felt stuck and frustrated because of my damn arm. My therapist suggested hiking and here we are.”

“Here we are,” Steve echoes quietly.

Bucky doesn't continue, he only hums in response.

Steve holds him a little closer and says, “Sorry you had to go through that.”

“'s alright,” Bucky says and turns his head to look at him. “Got me here with you, didn't it?”

Steve looks at him for a moment, then he smiles and kisses him softly.

 

• • •

They eat dinner at the last lodge and take turns to shower. While Bucky takes his, Steve takes a second to check his phone. Lyn is in his lap and is demanding his attention though so he only has one hand to use while the other pets her. Not that he minds.

There's a message from Sam waiting for him on the phone. In it is a picture of Steve's room back home but it looks a lot messier than he remembers leaving it. Clint is sitting in the middle of it, his legs crossed and his hand raised with his fingers folded into a peace sign. Lucky is behind him though he's in motion, shaking a dog toy in his mouth, so he's blurry.

Under the picture is the caption _they stole your room because “it's bigger” lol_.

Steve smiles to himself, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. He misses them, his friends. It's only been about a week but he is so used to seeing them every day since they live together that going this long without them is... odd.

Despite all their annoying habits, he misses them.

Steve sends back an angry face emoji but he's smiling as he does it.

The smile is still there when the door opens and Bucky steps into the room, hair damp but there's a towel laid over his shoulders to keep his shirt from getting wet. His prosthetic is off too and the left sleeve of his shirt is tied into a knot where his stump ends.

“So,” he says as he closes the door behind him. “Tomorrow is the last day, huh?”

And just like that, Steve's smile dies on his lips. He doesn't try to hide it because he can't and he doesn't want to. Tomorrow is the last day. By noon tomorrow they will have hiked all the way through the Dolomites and then they're done and will go their separate ways.

“I guess so,” Steve says and makes himself smile albeit sadly.

Bucky walks over and sits down next to him on the bed. He drapes his arm around his shoulders and pulls him in with a soft exhale. Steve lets himself be moved and leans into him, his head landing on Bucky's shoulder.

In his lap, Lyn grunts but doesn't move.

“You'll be okay,” Bucky says quietly. “You've got friends back home, right? They'll be there.”

 _But you won't be_ , Steve doesn't say nor does he ask him not to leave him again. Instead he lifts his head and looks at him with a smile that he doesn't even attempt to make anything but the sad that it ends up being.

“I'm gonna miss you,” he tells him in a whisper.

Bucky returns the smile. “We'll meet again,” he says so certain that it's hard not to believe him.

Steve doesn't say anything. He just leans in and kisses him.

 

• • •

 

Their last day is short. By one pm they make it to the bus station at the end of the trail along with a handful of other hikers, including Camilla and Henry who smile and wave at them. Both Steve and Bucky smile and wave back though none of them approach each other.

Lyn is on her leash when they get on the bus back to Venice. She curls up in a ball between Bucky's feet during the ride, tugged in under the seat to take up as little space as possible, and Bucky is hugging his backpack to his chest while his head is rested on Steve's shoulders. He naps for the entirety of the bus ride.

Steve doesn't mind it, he relishes in it. He kisses the top of Bucky's head and breathes him in, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment for a while. He won't, of course, and he ends up having to jostle Bucky awake when their stop starts nearing.

They rent a room at a hotel near the airport for one night even though it's only Steve who has a flight in the morning. Bucky is staying in Italy for another few days. It's not a big room but it's big enough. There's a king sized bed and a couch that Lyn immediately claims as hers by jumping onto it and turning in circles before she lays down with a content sigh.

Later, when night is rising outside and they're both in bed, the silence is heavy.

“So,” Bucky says quietly to break it. “Last night, huh?”

Steve hums. “Last night,” he repeats just as quietly.

Neither say anything again after that and Steve doesn't let them either. He rolls over until he's on top of Bucky with his knees on either side of his hips and hands bracketing his head though he's careful not to put his hands on Bucky's hair that fans out beautifully on the white pillow below him.

Bucky blinks up at him with wide eyes but he's smiling. He opens his mouth to say something but Steve swallows whatever it is by leaning down and kissing him firmly and deeply. Bucky makes a noise against his lips, something near a chuckle, but he kisses him back.

The kiss is heated and it only grows more and more with each brush of lips and touch of tongues.

It doesn't last very long though.

“I love you,” Steve lets out in a breath when he breaks the kiss.

Bucky licks his shiny lips and opens his eyes. There's a dazed look in them, his eyes half lidded and pupils blown out. Steve wants to kiss him again but he refrains from doing so and instead kisses his thumb when Bucky raises his hand and touches his bottom lip with it.

“I love you too,” Bucky whispers back.

“And I'm gonna go buy lube and condoms,” Steve says then vaults out of bed.

“Wh—”

Whatever Bucky was going to say is cut off by a laugh. Steve hears him move around on the bed but he doesn't see because he's too busy stepping into his shoes and grabbing the room card and his wallet.

“Are you serious?” Bucky asks behind him. “Steve, it's late!”

“Don't go anywhere!” Steve calls over his shoulder as he rushes out the door.

The sound of Bucky's laughter rings in his ears all the way to the elevator.

 

• • •

It takes him eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds to get the supplies. He knows this because he counts. When he goes to pay, the guy behind the counter gives him a knowing smirk and tells him to have a good night as he hands him the receipt. Steve rushes back to the hotel room with bright red cheeks and the small bag clutched tight in his hand.

He pauses outside the room, suddenly nervous. The hall is quiet and all he hears is his own heart beating loudly in his chest. He doesn't even know why he's so nervous all of the sudden. They have already seen each other naked, have already touched each other intimately. He shouldn't have any reason to be nervous and yet...

He stands out there for a minute then he inhales deeply and opens the door.

The first thing he sees is Bucky.

Bucky is still on the bed where he left him though he has moved since. Instead of being on his back like before, he's now on his side with his head propped up on his closed fist. His right leg is stretched out along the bed while his left is bend at the knee with his foot on the mattress.

And he's wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer briefs.

Steve gawks. He has seen this man bare naked before, has touched him and seen him come, and yet seeing him like this is somehow much more... sensual. The way he's laying now, like he's putting himself on display and seducing him from across the room, covered but still so bare.

Steve _wants_.

The door closes behind him as he takes a couple steps into the room. Bucky is smiling at him now and he lifts his head to run his fingers through his loose hair, shaking it before he returns to his original position.

“Took you long enough,” Bucky says and shifts his hips.

“Uh huh,” is all Steve can say back.

He's so focused on Bucky that it takes a little too long to notice that something, or rather some _one_ , is missing from the room. He shakes himself out of the daze and looks around the room but he sees no sign of Lyn anywhere.

“Where's Lyn?” he asks and looks back at Bucky.

“Put her in the bathroom,” Bucky says. “Figured we wanted, you know. Privacy.”

Bucky looks at Steve and Steve looks back.

Steve is rooted to the spot but then Bucky digs his teeth into his bottom lip, cants his hips, and gives him a heated look and then he moves. He tosses the bag of supplies to Bucky and strips out of his clothes along the way to the bed, never once taking his eyes off of him.

Steve is in his underwear by the time he makes it there but that gets removed too the second Bucky gets a hand on him. Steve lets him, stepping out of them and tossing them away carelessly before he gets on the bed and dips down to kiss Bucky.

Steve settles himself between Bucky's now spread legs and presses down in a grind that makes them both moan into the kiss. Steve rubs against Bucky for barely a minute before he gets annoyed by the piece of clothing between them. He reaches down with one hand, tugs them off, and throws them to the floor like they offended him.

Bucky dips his chin and breaks the kiss. “Steve,” he says in a chuckle. “Why 're you rushing?”

Steve pauses then he leans back a little. “It's our last night together,” he says.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “And it's also our first time together.”

“Lies. Our first time was a couple days ago.”

“Fine, it's our first time having penetrative sex then.”

“I'm— I'm excited.”

“I can tell,” Bucky says and reaches down between them to touch him.

It sends a shudder along Steve's spine and he can't help but buck into the hand touching him. Below him Bucky bites his lip and breathes in deeply, his chest expanding, and Steve sees all of it because he can't look away.

“And I'm nervous,” Steve admits then.

“Why?” Bucky asks. He lifts his hand and places it on Steve's cheek instead. “It's just me, Steve.”

Steve leans into his hand. “You make me nervous.”

“In a good way?”

“Yeah. In a good way.”

Bucky smiles up at him, small on his lips and bright in his eyes. He slides his hand around to rest on the back of Steve's neck and gently guides him down until they're less than an inch apart, breaths mingling and lips brushing against each other when he speaks.

“Make love to me, Steve,” he whispers and pecks his lips softly.

“Okay,” is all Steve can whisper back and then he kisses him.

They take it slow. They laugh and smile through it, even after Steve rolls the condom on and guides himself inside of Bucky. He holds onto Bucky's hand once he's seated inside of him and Bucky intertwines their fingers as he moans and grinds back against him. And Steve can only kiss him and relish in the moment.

Steve ends up lasting longer than he was expecting but he still finishes first. He comes with Bucky's name rolling off his lips in a breathy moan while his hips stutter and he empties into the condom. Bucky follows not long after, arching off the bed while Steve strokes him and looking so beautiful that it takes Steve's breath away.

After, Steve wraps himself around Bucky and breathes him in.

 

• • •

The airport is quiet in the morning. The drop off out front is almost vacant of cars and people so the cab pulls up as close to the entrance as it can get. Lyn hops out first but she's on her leash so she doesn't go far. She stretches and yawns while Steve and Bucky follow her out. Steve is carrying his backpack and Bucky only has the leash in hand.

The cab driver doesn't pay them any attention and only grunts an _okay_ when Bucky tells him to keep the meter running. Steve is grateful for the lack of attention on them because he has never been a big fan of public displays of affection but he doubts he can hold himself back from kissing Bucky when they say goodbye.

“You got my number, right?” Bucky asks when they've been standing there for too long.

Steve nods and smiles. “And you got mine?”

“I've got yours,” Bucky confirms. “I'll text you.”

“You better.”

“And you better text me back.”

“I plan to.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

The silence that follows is heavy with sadness. Steve doesn't want to go. Realistically he knows that he can and will see Bucky again and probably sooner than he thinks but he has spend so many years without him and a week hasn't been nearly enough to make up for it.

He doesn't want to go.

But he forces a smile anyway because he has to.

Bucky doesn't return the smile. Instead he steps into his space, wraps an arm around his waist, and kisses him. It doesn't feel like a _see you soon_ kiss but rather a _farewell_ and a _goodbye_. Steve grabs his face and kisses him back with a desperate need to make this last.

“I love you,” Bucky whispers once they part.

“I love you,” Steve echoes quietly.

When he walks into the airport, he doesn't look back despite how badly he wants to.

 

• • •

Steve spends the majority of the flight sorting through the pictures he's taken on the trip. There are... too many and many of them aren't good. In fact almost sixty percent are identical to another or blurry or completely unusable and he quietly curses himself for taking so many pictures because it feels like they never end, there just keeps being more and more and more.

A lot of them are of Bucky. There are blurry pictures of him, unfocused and bad, but Steve doesn't delete any of them. He can't get himself to do it because he wants to hold onto the little of Bucky he has in case life comes between them and holds them apart again.

Lyn is there in many of the pictures too and he does end up deleting a few with her but he saves most. She's too photogenic and beautiful not to.

Like father, like daughter.

 

• • •

 

Sam picks him up at the airport back in the US. Steve sees him the second he steps outside because Sam has a sign that reads _ON YOUR FRONT!_ raised above the crowd which makes him easy to spot. The people between them part and Steve sees that gap toothed smile he has missed so much.

He returns it with a deadpan look but he's smiling as he walks over and wraps his arms around him in a hug. Sam laughs in his ear and hugs him back tightly. Steve smiles a little wider and squeezes his best friend.

Asshole as he may be, he has missed him.

“Hey, man,” Sam says when they step apart. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “It was— Yeah, it was good.”

Sam raises a brow but the smile stays. “You don't sounds too sure 'bout that,” he says.

“I'm tired,” Steve says which isn't a lie. “Nine hours on a plane, Sam.”

Sam studies him for a moment. “Alright,” he says then. “Let's get you home.”

 

• • •

 

They don't even make it to the door before Steve hears a familiar barking from the other side. He smiles and walks a little faster down the hall. Behind him, Sam laughs. The door is unlocked so he opens it and immediately drops to a crouch while his backpack slides off his shoulders. His arms are filled with an overly excited labrador retriever barely a second later.

Lucky licks at his face, his front paws on his bend knees and his tail going a mile a minute. Steve chuckles and lets him as he runs his fingers through that soft fur that he has missed so much this past week or so.

He has had Lyn and she's great but Lucky is special.

“Hey boy,” Steve says quietly and just for Lucky.

Lucky makes a whine-y noise in reply and licks his nose.

“He eats his own poop, you know.”

Steve looks up and sees Natasha standing a couple steps away, her arms crossed and a smile on her lips. Behind her is Clint who looks barely awake even though it's well into the afternoon, his dirty blond hair a bird's nest atop his head. At least he's awake enough to be putting in his hearing aids but not awake enough to have put on pants.

Steve hears the door close behind him. He doesn't move so Sam walks around him.

“I know,” Steve says and stands, “and I don't care.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. She then uncrosses her arms and walks over to him. Steve meets her halfway and pulls her in for a tight hug. She's a lot smaller than him but she's strong and she knows it though it doesn't stop her from hugging him a little too tight every time. He doesn't mind and squeezes her back.

“I missed you,” she says into his chest.

Steve smiles into her hair. “I missed you too, Nat.”

Clint comes over and gives him a hug too once Natasha has detached herself from him. She doesn't go far though. She lingers by his side even after he and Clint have stepped apart again. Steve notices only because she makes a point to be obvious so he swings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close.

Eventually Steve takes a shower. He lays on his bed for a while after dumping his backpack carelessly on the floor in his room before then. Natasha lays down next to him and catches him up on what he's missed in the nine days he's been gone which turns out to not be much.

He has missed this, just laying here with Natasha and talking while Clint and Sam play with Lucky out in the living space. They're noisy but it's nice and he's missed this. This is what home feels like.

But it's an incomplete home to him. There's someone missing.

When he steps out of the shower, clean and in sweats, there is pizza waiting for him in the kitchen. They eat and talk and Steve almost forgets how tired he is but in the end, he doesn't make it past nine pm before he falls face first into bed and falls asleep.

He doesn't text Bucky even though he wants to.

• • •

Steve connects his laptop to their television the following afternoon to show his roommates the pictures from his trip. He spend most of the morning transferring them over from his memory cards but he hasn't bothered going through them again so there are still plenty blurry and shitty pictures.

It doesn't take long before a familiar border collie starts showing up in the pictures. No one says anything at first, at least not other than an _aww_ from Clint. But then she keeps showing up in pictures that are clearly taken days apart.

Steve doesn't explain but the others notice.

“Whose dog is that?” Clint eventually asks.

“A friend's,” Steve says and doesn't elaborate.

He pointedly ignores the sideways glance he gets from Natasha and continues through the pictures. Except the next picture is of Bucky and so is the next one and the next and the next.

Steve stops right on one where Bucky is facing the camera with a wide smile.

“Steve,” Natasha says after a beat. “Who is that?”

Steve hesitates but he knows he can't avoid it. “That's Bucky,” he says.

Next to him Sam suddenly sits up and turns bodily to him. Steve has told him about Bucky before. He and Sam met only a couple years after Bucky moved away so of course Bucky has come up in conversation before. Many times, in fact, to the point where coming out as bisexual was no surprise to Sam.

Steve glances at him but only for a second.

“Bucky,” Sam repeats. “As in... the love of your life, _that_ Bucky?”

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “That Bucky.”

No one is looking at the screen anymore, they're all looking at him now.

Steve switches to another picture, one that isn't of Bucky.

“Where is he now?” Sam asks after a pause.

“Still in Italy,” Steve says, “but he lives somewhere in upstate New York.”

“Oh.”

“That's not that far away,” Clint says.

“Guess not,” Steve says in a quiet mumble.

A hand lands on his shoulder and he looks to his left and meets Sam's eye. Sam smiles at him, small and understanding, and Steve returns it with a nod as a silent thank you. A thank you for understanding and for changing the subject even though he isn't very subtle about it when he does.

Neither Natasha nor Clint say anything about it though.

And no one says anything when another picture of Bucky comes up on screen.

 

• • •

 

“I didn't know you had a 'love of your life',” Natasha says later.

She's on Steve's bed, laying on her stomach with her head propped up on her closed fist and her phone in her other hand. Her thumb is moving over the screen but Steve knows she isn't actually paying any attention to it. She's only pretending.

Steve shrugs and goes back to unpacking. “That's because I never told you,” he says.

“And why not?”

“Because it was none of your business.”

“But it was Sam's.”

Steve pauses. Then he walks over and sits down on the edge of the bed. He doesn't say anything right away, not until Natasha puts her phone down and stops pretending. She looks at him with an expectant tilt of her head.

“When I met Sam,” Steve starts, “it was a couple years after Bucky had left. His dad... well, he wasn't good. Dealt with his issues through alcohol and treating his family like shit until Bucky's mom had enough, divorced him, got custody of the kids, and moved them away. I was heartbroken when they— _he_ left.”

Natasha puts a hand on his and squeezes.

“I was young,” he continues. “We both were but he was the love of my life. Is. When I met Sam, the heartbreak was still fresh so of course I talked about it with him but I had to move on eventually. You can't live in the past, Nat.”

“But the past came back,” Natasha says.

Steve hums. “It did.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

Steve pauses for a long moment. “I don't know,” he says.

 

• • •

 

He doesn't text Bucky that night either.

 

• • •

 

Days pass and Steve goes back to his regular life. He sells several Dolomites pictures to a magazine and takes on whatever job he can get his hands on so he can pay his share of the rent this month. Somehow he manages though he does end up taking on a cleaning job at a restaurant so he also has money for groceries.

Things return to normal bit by bit but nothing feels right.

He still feels this intense need to get out but somehow it's worse now. He feels restless even though he's active for a majority of the day and he feels trapped. Again. And it's not just the grief weighing him down anymore. It's the fact that he misses someone so fiercely that it hurts too.

He pretends like he's doing fine but Sam has always been able to read him better than anyone else.

• • •

 

(He still doesn't text Bucky but he thinks about it often.

Every day.

All the time.)

 

• • •

 

On Saturday, Steve wakes up early with no help from an alarm. He feels good today or at least good enough that when he leaves his bed to get dressed, he puts on his workout clothes and steps into his running shoes. He hasn't been on a run in a while so maybe that will help him feel less trapped.

He leaves his room. The apartment is quiet except for some distant noises from the kitchen. He walks out there and finds Sam sitting by the table with a bowl of cereal in front of him and his laptop beside it.

Sam looks up when Steve comes in. “Morning,” he says then shovels in a mouthful of cereal.

“Morning,” Steve echoes. “Other two still asleep, huh?”

Sam hums an affirmative and nods.

Steve huffs though he's not surprised. Natasha and Clint aren't morning people though Natasha can actually get up in the morning when she needs to which Clint can't and probably never will. Unlike them, himself and Sam are morning people so they usually have the place to themselves until around noon. It's nice.

Steve expects the conversation to be done so he heads over to get a glass of water.

Sam isn't done however.

“When's your next adventure?” he asks.

Steve turns to look at him. “My next adventure?”

“Yeah,” Sam says. “Your next hike, travel, whatever.”

“I don't know,” Steve says with a shrug. “I haven't really thought about it.”

It's a lie and judging by the look Sam gives him, it's not a very convincing one.

“It's all you've been thinking about, man,” Sam says.

Steve pauses then he turns back around and fills his glass. “I don't know,” he says again.

“You should do it asap.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Wilson?”

“Trying to help you.”

Steve doesn't respond to that and downs the water in his glass instead.

“I'm not asking you to talk about it,” Sam says, “but you're not happy here.”

Steve hesitates then he sighs and says, “No, I'm not.”

“Then leave. Get out for a while. Your room will still be here when you come back.”

Steve turns around. “And if I never come back?”

“Then we'll give it to Sharon.”

Steve huffs out a laugh.

Steve laughs with him but only for a second. “I'm serious, Steve.” he says. “Do what makes you happy.”

Steve sighs. “I don't know, Sam.”

“I do,” Sam says and gets up from his seat. “Just think about it, okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I'll think about it.”

Sam picks up his bowl and comes over to the sink with a smile. He empties what's left in it and puts it into the dishwasher then he turns and starts to walk away. He doesn't get more than a couple steps before he stops again though.

“Oh,” he says and smiles at him. “And text Bucky. Bring him with you.”

Steve blinks. “I haven't even decided if I'm going anywhere,” he says.

“I know,” Sam says. “But you will. And even if you don't, text him anyway.”

Steve doesn't say anything.

Sam doesn't either. He turns and walks away, leaving Steve to stand there alone.

 

• • •

 

A month after the funeral, Steve steps back onto the cemetery with a bouquet in hand. He hates it here but it has been too long and he can't run forever. At least it's quiet and empty this morning, there's only one other person but they're several graves away.

Steve finds his mom's grave quick. She's buried next to his dad and though he died when Steve was too young to keep a memory of him, he still misses him. But not as much as he misses her.

Sarah Rogers, the tombstone says in bold letters because that's what she was. Bold.

_Beloved wife, daughter, and mother._

Steve steps up to it and gently brushes away the dead leaves on top. Her grave looks empty but when he crouches down and puts the bouquet against it, it doesn't look so bad. He stands and takes a couple steps back as he stuffs his now empty hands into his pockets.

He doesn't say anything for a while and just stands there looking at her name.

“Hey ma,” he says quietly then, a small and glum smile on his lips.

A gust of cold wind is all the answer he gets.

“Sorry I haven't visited in a while,” he says. “I've. I've been having a hard time lately and I don't really know how to deal with you being gone so I, uh. Well, I haven't dealt with it. I couldn't stand being here without you so I left.”

He swallows thickly before he continues.

“I went to Italy. You always talked about how badly you wanted to take a vacation there one day and I'm sorry you never got to do it. But I went and hiked through the mountains and mom. Mom, it's beautiful there. You would've loved it.”

Steve shifts on his feet and takes his eyes off the tombstone to look around. The cemetery is empty now since it looks like the other visitor has left and Steve suddenly feels less awkward about talking to a slab of stone.

“I didn't go through the hike alone,” he tells his mom. “I ran into an old friend at the airport. Bucky. Remember him? He was my best friend growing up. You thought he was charming. You'd be happy to know he still is. He's... different but it's still Bucky.”

He pauses for a moment then he inhales deeply.

“I'm gonna marry him, mom,” he says. “One day, at least. And I know you can't attend the wedding if he says yes but I've kept your ring and hopefully he'll be wearing it one day. So you'll be with us. Be our good luck charm, yeah?”

He chuckles quietly to himself but it dies quick along with the smile on his lips. He looks at his mother's name engraved in the stone and tries his hardest to ignore the lump in his throat.

“I love you, mom,” he says in a whisper. “I'll come back for Thanksgiving.”

He stands there for another minute before he turns around and walks away.

 

• • •

 

The subway is full on the way back to the apartment. Steve is standing with one hand wrapped around a pole to keep himself from falling and the other holding his phone. He's staring down at it, down at where his text conversation with Bucky is pulled up.

It's empty because he still hasn't send a single text.

There are a thousand and one drafts in his head but none of them have made it onto his screen. He stands there for several long minutes, rocking along with the subway car, before he takes in a steady breath and types out a text. He hits send before he can overthink it.

‹ [ **08:17** ] Steve: Remember how we always talked about seeing the Grand Canyon?

He doesn't put his phone away after. He stares at it even after it goes dark and waits for it to light up with a text notification. It does after only a few minutes and he rushes to unlock his phone and pull up the message.

› [ **08:26** ] Bucky: of course i do. been thinking about it for years

‹ [ **08:27** ] Steve: What are you doing next month?

› [ **08:27** ] Bucky: hiking the grand canyon with you hopefully  
**›** [ **08:27** ] Bucky: otherwise this is the worst form of teasing and i hate you

Steve smiles down at his phone, a flutter in his heart.

‹ [ **08:28** ] Steve: Better start packing then.

Bucky texts him back a string of hearts and Steve's smile grows softer. He pockets his phone, lets out a relieved breath, and lifts his eyes from the ground.

This isn't running away. This is the first step into his future, with Bucky.

**Author's Note:**

> [Masterpost on tumblr](http://mlmsrogers.tumblr.com/post/183245372358), [Iris' art post](https://iris-of-your-eye.tumblr.com/post/183234250883/my-contribution-for-the-2019-stuckyaubang-this-is), [Kai's art post](https://kaiwrites.tumblr.com/post/183250630711/my-art-for-the-stucky-au-bang-collaboration).
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


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